


Three Strikes

by taylorgirl6



Series: Strong Girls [2]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/F, Falling In Love, Geeky, LGBTQ Themes, Mutism, Non-Binary Original Characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:00:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 150,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28119567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylorgirl6/pseuds/taylorgirl6
Summary: Drama Hayes didn’t usually have much to say, so it was convenient that talking wasn’t something she’d done since she was a kid. When Ophelia Murdock offered her a job at the Vector startup, it looked like a good way to stay out of trouble. It would be great to keep herself off the radar, out of the line of sight, and maybe that way she might avoid getting another conviction on her record. Two strikes was enough already. But she hadn’t expected to find friends, or to end up working side by side with Faith, who’s sultry stare and smart mouth wouldn’t leave her alone.This is a companion work to Homewrecker, already complete here on AO3. Characters are shared, the timeline is mixed, and some of the original characters from that first story are here in 3-D.
Relationships: Faith Lehane/Andromeda Hayes, Tara Maclay/Willow Rosenberg
Series: Strong Girls [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2060046
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

June 2009

Drama followed the Director into the open format office space of the 40th floor. She could see all of downtown Seattle around them as she walked toward the floor to ceiling windows. Desks and partitions had already been set up. One walled-off area held a large office with an oversized desk containing two workstations, another looked to be a large meeting room with a full length table and a dozen chairs. She looked down and noticed that the floors weren’t done. They were still exposed concrete with bits of residual glue from where the last flooring surface was removed. 

“We’re still working on some finishing touches,” Director Murdock watched her evaluate the room. “But we’re ready to engage in our first operation within the month once tech ops is up and running.” Her tone was formal, but Drama could hear her desire for approval. There was clearly a lot riding on this.

This wasn’t what she had expected when Ophelia Murdock had first met with her in the dimly lit side room of the courthouse prior to her last arraignment hearing. But then the majority of her work up until that time had been point to point with minimal contact, and none of the other groups in her past were this organized or this well-funded. Murdock had made her case that this business was in need of someone with Drama’s expertise, but her description was anything but elaborate. She mentioned tech security infrastructure, some research she needed done, and the offer had certainly beaten the jail time Drama was facing, so she agreed.

She pulled out the small notepad from her back pocket and scribbled a question on it for the Director, who read it and smiled with tight lips. “The other teams are fully staffed already. I can show you those levels when you’re set up here,” she glanced back toward the elevator they had arrived in. “I’ve only just gotten clearance to complete the hiring for tech ops, so you’re the second.” She glanced around the space. “Petra should be here somewhere. I have two more arriving this afternoon. You’d be best to get settled in before they arrive.” She pointed to the office behind the glass wall. “You won’t be in the main workroom. You’ll share a desk with my head of security.”

Drama raised an eyebrow.

“Marcus Hoffman,” the Director replied. “He’s on loan to me from Corporate until I can fill the position permanently.” She swept out of the space with a nod and left Drama to orient herself. 

She stepped into the side office and ran her hands over the desk built for two work stations. The computers were there, already set up. She started typing on one and logged in with the credentials she had been provided. After a long period of silence on her own, she was startled by a knock on the metal door frame.

“Hi,” chirped a thin voice. Drama spun and took in the figure of a very small teenager in her doorway. Olive skin, tightly curled hair that hung down to her upper back, shoulders so thin she could see the bone underneath, and vibrant blue eye shadow. She was smiling. She might have had purple lipstick on. She was dressed all in black, but every part of her had something sparkly on it, like she was competing to be the glitteriest goth kid at Comic-Con. “I’m Petra.” She waved.

Drama caught herself waving back, and she suddenly felt stupid for doing it. She picked up the pad of paper on the desk and a nearby sharpie and wrote her name in all caps, held it up for the girl to read.

“Drama? Phe told me. Cool name.” The kid slid into the other desk chair and spun around a few times. “Did they haul you out of juvie, too?”

She sat back, a bit alarmed. ‘Sort of,’ she wrote with the marker.

“Seriously?” the girl’s eyes got wide. “I was kinda joking, but it’s no big deal anyway.” 

Drama pointed at her with raised eyebrows. 

“Me? No, but child services was done with me. Too many placements in a year.” She spun around again. “I think Phe is only recruiting life flunkies.”

Drama’s eyebrows knitted together. She wrote a question mark on the page.

Petra stopped spinning to look at it. “What? Oh, I just mean people who suck at stuff like being normal. I don’t have time for normal.”

‘What did she hire you to do?’ Drama wrote.

“I’m good at stealing stuff,” Petra got up and wandered around the office, idly playing with her hair. “Restricted stuff.”

Drama flared her nostrils and exhaled. Great. This was no better than the gang she had just gotten arrested for being associated with, and that connection had almost cost her two more years and a second conviction on her record. One more and she would be locked up for a very long time. She swiped the short blonde hair out of her eyes and tried to focus on the computer again, hoping the girl would wander off like she had come in. After a few seconds of silence, she looked left and jumped. The girl was sitting backwards on the chair and staring at her, only a foot away. Her eyes didn’t appear to need to blink regularly.

“What’s your job?” She was leaning her chin on both forearms which rested on the back of the chair. Drama thought she barely looked tall enough to fit the office furniture.

‘Cybersecurity,’ she wrote, scooting the notepad to the other side of the desk where the girl was now. ‘How old are you?’

“Seventeen,” Petra smiled. “But I bet you’re old enough to buy beer.”

Drama had to laugh at that one, and she wasn’t sure if she would regret smiling back. ’22,’ she wrote, ‘I don’t buy for minors.’

____________________

Drama watched the others through the glass between their work areas. Murdock had been right when she said she had held out to hire the best, but Drama hadn’t really expected them all to be so young. Some of them made her feel a bit old, and that was a new sensation. They laughed and joked together, a couple of the boys were already trading Star Wars movie clip quotes. She took a deep breath and went back to her computer, back to the safety of building and writing and doing what she knew, what she excelled at. Hoffman didn’t spend much time in the office with her, which was a relief. He was huge, and he took up more space than was comfortable for her. He was a man-spreader, and she opposed it with every fiber of her being. Drama had spent a long time studying how people moved, how they occupied space, and she knew better than to fall into the patterns that were expected of girls, of women. She cringed at the thought of the word woman in her head. It had never fit her. And it certainly didn’t allow her to express herself naturally. She pulled her shoulders back, very consciously filling the space with herself now, knowing it was good to have that established before Hoffman came back later in the day. 

She glanced back out at the crowd of programmers, data geeks, and envied how simple it was for them to make friends with each other. The walls around her office space felt more like a setup sometimes, as though Murdock might have wanted her to feel segregated, and it was working. Petra would smile and wave at her from time to time during the day. Sometimes she would ask her to go along for coffee or lunch, but Drama always refused, always pretended that her work was too important to walk away from. Petra knew she was full of shit because she had seen Drama leave occasionally to work out in the gym in the basement or to go for a run around lunchtime. At least no one had interfered with her personal time. And Petra had enough friends in the group that she didn’t need Drama, which she wanted to feel like a relief. The truth was, she had always been lonely, and she was prepared to feel like that forever, and it was just easier not to see any other options.

Murdock had opened a few choices for her in her employment proposal. Drama could work under a disability statement if she wanted to. She had politely refused, informing the Director that she didn’t have a disability, and she was intent on using only truthful statements on any records pertaining to herself from here out. She had been given the chance to work from home, remotely, which she also declined. Drama knew she would have better discipline with a defined workspace away from her apartment. Without that, she would simply work for hours and hours until her body crashed, and that did no one any good. So she came in every day, retreated to her office, ignored Hoffman if he was there, and watched the kids on the playground on the other side of the glass, laughing, collaborating, nerding out over graphic novels. 

And for the most part, they were good with her sitting quietly on the sidelines, doing what she did, not talking, not really interacting. All of them except Claude, that is. Claude arrived swinging teeth and claws at everyone and everything in sight, and Drama held no exemption from her anger. She tore into Petra straight away, and Drama had been in the kitchen, had overheard everything. “Do you even know what you are? Like which minority group are you even trying to claim?” she heard her say. Drama dropped her dishes in the sink and ducked out into the hallway to see what the commotion was about. 

“Hey,” Scotty, not as new as most of the others stepped toward her, “Petra’s cool. I know you’re new, but-”

“No, please,” she interrupted him, “I’d like you to tell me all about it, mister white privilege,” she spat at him. 

Drama walked toward the group and sized her up. Claude was small. She probably beat herself up in the mirror as much as she attacked everyone else outwardly since she was carrying more than a little weight that she didn’t need. She had already been over all of Claude’s recruitment paperwork. Her mother was Korean, her father Chinese. Claude clearly hadn’t gotten the best of either of them. But there was something about her Drama wanted to like. She had some nerve. Her hair was badly dyed in trails of hot pink, which was fun if you were still a teenager, and she was only just barely past that. She looked up and up and up at Drama once they were toe to toe. 

“Here we go,” said Boston from his chair on the other side of the console where most of them were clustered.

“Who the hell are you supposed to be?” Claude snapped up at her. “Ellen on growth hormones?”

Drama almost wanted to laugh, but Petra stuck herself squarely into things. “Jesus, are you gonna be a bitch about everyone on your first day?”

Claude squared with her. “Even if you straighten your hair, you’ll never grow up to look like Jessica Alba.”

Drama calmly put up her hands between them, not touching anyone, and pointed each of them to their assigned desks. Petra glowered up at her but did the right thing. Claude, on the other hand, was gunning for an early reputation in the group and got exactly what she wanted, just not the flavor she had in mind. She reached up a hand to smack Drama’s arm out of her way, and Drama lunged. She swept Claude’s legs out from under her and dumped her into the nearest rolling chair, which slammed against the desk behind them. Her forearm pressed down against Claude’s upper chest and pinned her to the chair with such precision that Scotty later insisted she had some sort of secret ninja training in her past. She glared down at the smaller woman with irritation, warning her with her eyes not to push this any further. Thankfully, she didn’t. Drama stood up and walked back to her office, glancing only slightly toward Petra and the newest girl, Pan, on her way out of the workroom. They both smiled up at her in awe.


	2. Chapter 2

July 2009

“Do you like burgers?” the girl had sat on the edge of her desk without warning. She was pale and small, barely a hundred pounds if Drama could judge by sight. Her long, brown hair was swept back in a messy ponytail and stuck out at odd angles from all the curls she couldn’t contain. Drama was so caught off guard by her presence that she nodded before she realized they were in a conversation and it was lunchtime. “Cool,” said Pan, reaching out to hook their elbows together. “There’s this great burger place two blocks away.” She pulled Drama from her chair and marched them out of the office and out into the warm spring air, chattering the entire way. “I never see you leave the office. Do you eat real food? I think burgers are an important part of nutrition, too often underrated. You look like the kind of person who eats healthy food all the time. Don’t you get bored of kale? Claude is such a bitch. I guess there’s one in every work group, but I can’t stand her. She’s always so bossy and rude to everyone. The way you took her down yesterday was epic! You might not know this, but everybody else in the group thinks you’re like the coolest thing ever for standing up to her, and you didn’t just stand up, you took her down a peg. Maybe three. She said you don’t talk because you’re stupid, so I hacked her bank account and put in a claim for a lost debit card, so she won’t be able to access her funds for three days while they deactivate everything and send her a new one in the mail. I hope you don’t mind, cuz it’s clear you’re not stupid, you’re obviously really smart, but she was a total dick and needed to be taught a lesson.” 

When she finally stopped talking Drama realized they were standing in line at the burger place. She felt in her pockets for the sticky note pad and pencil she kept there and wrote a quick note to the girl. ‘Nice to meet you.’

Pan laughed out loud, her voice joyful and full of color and happiness. “I kind of figured we could be best friends since I can’t shut up and you’re probably the best listener ever.”

Drama smiled at her, and she felt herself warming up to the chatterbox who had gotten her out of her office for the first time in two weeks. ‘You’re funny,’ she wrote. Pan’s face lit up with an enormous smile. 

When they sat down to eat, Pan took Drama’s phone and programmed in all of her contact numbers. “Doesn’t your hand get tired from writing little notes like that all the time? You should just text me. It’ll be easier.”

Drama grinned back at her. She held the phone and sent Pan a text. ‘I could use your help with something this weekend.’ Pan read it and lit up with joy.

A few days later they were sitting in a parking lot in Drama’s car. ‘Thanks,’ she signed. She sent her a text saying the same thing. It felt so silly to use a text message to communicate inside the same car, but she had to agree that it was faster.

“I could probably learn sign language if that would help. Ooh,” she suddenly smiled, “and then we could talk through the glass in the office! That would be so cool!”

‘Or we could just chat on IM,’ Drama looked at her sideways.

“Why are we here? I know you said you don’t really like things where you think people are gonna ask you to talk, but you didn’t say what the point of this was.” Pan looked around at several other cars that were also in the parking lot. A bunch of people were hovering around their cars looking excited.

Drama pointed to the oversized van that rolled into the lot. It was a Saturday, and the sun was shining. It was probably going to reach a warmer temperature for the first time that summer, which would be a nice change. The van came to a stop and the people waiting started crowding around. Drama signaled that they should get out. Pan shoved her phone in her pocket and stepped out of the car, following her friend. She heard barking and looked up to see a group of huge white dogs being unloaded from the van. “Oh my gosh how cute is that?” she squealed. Drama smiled and nodded to her, and which point Pan finally realized that everyone was waiting for a dog of their own. “Wait, are you getting one, too?” 

Drama smiled even bigger and pulled a bundled leash out of her pocket.

A volunteer handling one of the dogs looked around and called out, “Hayes?” Drama waved politely. “You’re here for…” she leaned over and read the ID tag, “oh, he doesn’t have a name yet.” She looked expectantly up at Drama, who nearly towered over her, and waited for her to say something back.

Pan cut in, “Is this the one? He is so fluffy! I love him!” She knelt down and rubbed the dog all over. The volunteer looked at her, slightly confused. Pan barely noticed. She started talking to the dog in a ridiculous voice. “Oh, we are gonna love you, and hug you, and call you George.”

Drama tried to sign to her to cut it out, but Pan charged on without her. By the time she was done, the volunteer was asking her to sign up to help out with other dogs in foster care. Drama beamed at Pan. She had a way with people. They walked the dog around the parking lot for a few minutes to let him sniff and take a break from the long ride up from Texas. 

“You know, most people just get a dog from a breeder or a local shelter. I didn’t even know you could sign up for something like this. And this guy,” she ruffled his ears for the hundredth time, “is so sweet! I’ve never seen so many fluffy white dogs.”

‘Not George,’ Drama texted her.

“Fine. Not George. Duke?” Drama shook her head, no. “Buster?” No. “Oscar. Clifford? Harry?”

‘STOP!’ Drama signed in all letters. She looked at the dog and ran her hands over his back. He was enormous. He was easily the tallest one out of the group. She picked up his back paws. Each one had three dew claws. That was unusual. It made his feet look even bigger, more like hooves. 

“This guy is a moose…” Pan said in awe.

Drama stood up abruptly and looked at her friend. She snapped her fingers and nodded. ‘Moose,’ she spelled out.

____________________

September 1998

“Hayes!” the counselor called out just as the girl was about to make it out of the mess hall. She stopped and waited with her back turned to him. “You’re on clean-up duty with me,” he walked past her, opened the custodial closet at the far edge of the room, and grabbed the mop and rolling bucket. He pushed it over to her. She caught the mop handle and glared at him sideways, the ends of her short, blonde hair falling into her eyelashes and brushing against her cheek, which was purple with more bruising showing up near her eye. Her green eyes burned with resentment, but she shoved the bucket down the length of the room to where she could fill it with water. The enormous black man behind her followed, rubbing his bald head with a free hand. “I don’t know why you’re so damn stubborn,” he spoke to her as she worked. 

She refused to look at him again. She could hear the other girls outside, enjoying a bit of sunshine and fresh air. Fuck them, she thought. I don’t need that anyway. She shut off the water, mixed in some soap, and pushed past the counselor to get out into the dining area. The water slopped over the ugly checkered tile floor. Fucking mopping. Fucking cleaning every goddamn day. Fucking counselors. Fuck all of them. Her eyebrows were knit into a constant angry scowl. It was becoming a permanent expression for her. 

The counselor stepped in front of her and blocked her mop. She was stuck between two tables with nowhere to go. He stared at her with crossed arms, thick with muscle. His hulking form was easily four times the size of her. She was eleven years old and scrappy for her size, but there was no moving him once he set his feet down. He signed to her slowly, ‘What did you eat for lunch today. You still look skinny.’

She flipped him off.

“We’re gonna keep doing this until you learn sign language, you stubborn little shit,” he growled at her. “You wouldn’t have to go through this if you would just get through the basics.”

She wanted to growl back at him, but the thought of any sound coming out of her body made her cave in on herself in clutching fear. She didn’t want him to see that on her face. She put the mop in the bucket and tried to sign back to him. It was clumsy and slow. ‘Sandwich. Milk. Hate french fries.’

He laughed. “You might the first kid who ever told me they hate french fries.” ‘Tell me why,’ he signed.

‘Salty,’ she signed back.

“You got into another fight yesterday,” he signed and spoke at the same time. 

The girl smiled in self-satisfaction. ‘Put her on her back.’

He shook his head. “You broke two of her ribs. She’s still in the infirmary.” He didn’t know whether to be proud of her or yell at her. The girl who had attacked her was sixteen and a hell of a lot bigger. “How’s your hand,” he tried to glance at the knuckles of her left hand, but she yanked them back. “I warned you about that closed fit you’ve been using.” He kept shaking his head and turned to walk off, leaving the girl to her work. 

She jumped over the bucket and grabbed his shirt. He looked back at her. ‘You teach me,’ she signed. This might have been the first time she had ever looked at him without anger or resentment. 

“Nope,” he grumbled. “I don’t abide fighting.”

‘Self-defense,’ she had to spell the words out. She didn’t know any other way to say it.

“Maybe you should try making some friends so you’re not always on their hit list.” He glanced out the window at the groups of girls working their way around the yard. He had been here long enough to know that a kid like Hayes was a constant magnet for attacks. It had been a rough year for her, and she was still one of the youngest kids he had ever seen in the detention center. The way she looked at him now, she knew well enough that making friends wouldn’t help, and no one was going to be friends with a skinny kid who didn’t talk. He had thought learning ASL would at least give her the chance to speak up for herself, but he knew how the other girls viewed anything different, so he only tried to push her to learn when no one else was around.

‘You teach me,’ she signed again. ‘I know you were a boxer.’

He turned around and lifted his chin, looking down at her from even higher. “How’d you find that out?”

‘Computer.’ She stared back at him, defiant.

The corner of his mouth twitched into a smile for just a second, then went back to being a firm line. He kept his mouth closed and signed back to her, ‘You learn ASL, I’ll teach you how to keep yourself safe.’ He looked her up and down. ‘You need some muscle.’

She brushed the loose hair out of her darkened eye again. ‘Teach me to hit.’

He snorted, but she could tell she was making progress. ‘No fights for a month.’

She shrugged and went back to her mop, but he could clearly see the smile she was hiding.

____________________

December 2001

“Sign here.” The bored desk attendant slid a clipboard over the Formica counter to the woman clutching her purse in both hands. 

She took it from him and squinted her eyes at the paper. “I have to sign this?” she asked haltingly. 

He looked up at her from his computer. Shoulder-length dark blonde hair, skin that hung a bit loose on her frame, and a face full of worry and resentment. He hadn’t seen her before, but that wasn’t uncommon. Most of the girls who came in didn’t get visitors. He reached out to point at the form. “Here and here, and initial this part.” She frowned down at him and put pen to paper. 

There was a loud buzzing sound off to the left, and she jerked up just in time to see a large metal door swing open. A guard held it out, and a slim teenaged version of her daughter walked through. She inhaled sharply. The clipboard rattled to the counter as she set it down. She glanced back at the guy sitting there. “Is that it?”

“Yep,” he let out a slight stretch. “She’s all yours.”

She looked back at the kid. Not really much of a kid now, she noticed. Her face was so much thinner. And they had cut her hair short. But it was clearly her. She looked her up and down with a frown and a deep sigh. There was a fine line of an old healing cut on her left eyebrow. A bit of bright blonde hair brushed against it as she bent over to pick up the small backpack they had brought out from her locker. She stared at it with dismay. It was light blue, covered in My Little Pony characters, and it looked tiny against the tall frame of the girl she hadn’t seen since she dropped her off four years and six months earlier.

She ran a hand over her face and smoothed back her hair. “Well,” she finally said, “let’s go.”

They walked to the car in silence. She sat in the driver’s seat of the beat-up pickup truck and watched the lanky teenage body slide in beside her. They stared at each other in the freezing cold, their breath fogging up the interior of the truck. She broke the eye contact and pushed the key into the ignition, firing up the rattling engine. She pumped in a little gas to keep it going, then pulled out of the parking lot. 

Drama watched her lean over the steering wheel to check traffic before pulling out onto the main road. She turned left. Her left hand ran over the fabric of the backpack strap, feeling the odd little wrinkles in it from years of sitting in a metal storage locker. They’d given her a couple of things to take with her, but she hadn’t even checked what they were. Nothing from when she arrived would fit her anymore. She stared at the zipper and hoped they had given her some underwear at least. 

She perked up as the woman driving the truck started talking. “It took me four hours to drive out here.” Her voice sounded strained, unfamiliar, and Drama tried to reconcile the woman she was seeing with the one who had driven her out here, who had refused to talk to her or look at her as she signed the next four years of her life over to juvenile detention. Maybe nothing had changed, but she looked worn and tired in a way Drama hadn’t expected. “And the roads are shit.” They stopped at a traffic light to wait. She turned to scowl at Drama. “You’re not even gonna say anything?” Drama turned her head and looked out the side window. “They clearly didn’t do you much good in there,” her mother mumbled. “Cut your hair and made you look even more like a boy.” She breathed forcefully out of her nose. 

They drove back across the river toward the downtown core of Spokane. The truck came to a stop at the side of the road. She turned off the engine. Something in her face looked uncomfortable, but she set her jaw tight with a look of resolve and glanced over at Drama. She lifted her right hip and dug in her back pocket, pulling out a thin wad of money. She stuffed it into the girl’s hand, forcing her fingers around it before she let go. “It isn’t much, but it should be enough to get you going.” Her words were bitter, and Drama felt the money in her hand rubbing uncomfortably against her skin. “He’ll be mad that I gave you that much, but…” she shrugged and looked out the windshield. 

She wanted to throw it back. She should have. It felt like need and want, and it burned the back of her throat. She didn’t need a handout. Not after all this time. She knew what was happening somewhere in her bones before her brain had even caught up. And it was actually funny, like there was a laugh building up in her chest when she focused on it. What had she expected? That they would just come get her, bring her home, trust her after everything? She didn’t even want to go back. There was nothing there to move toward, nothing she wanted to relive. Juvie would have been a warmer welcome. She stuffed the cash into her pocket.

“You never met your grandmother. She was… she had this evil part of her that…” She cleared her throat and pulled her hands off the steering wheel to look at them. “You know I took off when I was your age.” She glanced at Drama, trying to see something in her, but she had to look away after a beat. “It was good for me. Made me independent. You’ve got that already, so you’ll be fine.” Drama picked up the backpack and unbuckled her seatbelt. “You know this is better than…” she tried to explain, but Drama could feel what she was going to say and didn’t need to hear it. She did know. She opened the door of the truck and stepped out into the cold afternoon. The little backpack was so light on her shoulder that it wouldn’t have mattered if she’d left it behind, but it might still come in handy. She slammed the door shut and walked up Riverside Avenue and out of sight of her mother.


	3. Chapter 3

July 2010

Drama seized the sheets in her fists and sat up in a cold sweat, barely awake from the nightmare. Shadows of it still haunted her eyes. She got up, walked through the apartment to the bathroom, and ran cold water in the sink to wash her face. The dog was right behind her, whining slightly at her agitated state. He had probably heard her thrashing in the bed, battling with the demons in her head as she slept. She dried her hands and face on the towel and patted him on the head to get him to settle back down. She flipped the bathroom light off and wandered to the couch, crashing with a blanket in the darkness. She knew better than to attempt to sleep again after that. She tried to pick up the book on the coffee table and read, but her eyes wouldn’t stay on the page. She thought, instead, about the gorgeous woman who had started work with her earlier in the week. Something stirred deep in the pit of her stomach when she thought of her, and it felt warm and soft, making it hard for her to want to think of anything else. 

She was the most beautiful thing Drama had ever seen. Her hair was dark and long, well past her shoulders and wavy. Average height, slim, and very, very curvy. Drama ran a hand over her face at the thought of those curves again. She was also brutal. Scotty had tried to introduce himself to her first thing and she had already told him, in very close detail, about how he should go home and play with himself all night long so that he could get over her. Drama had wanted to laugh, but she held her composure. Claude hadn’t stood up to her long either. Faith had called her Ugly Betty and then insulted her in Mandarin. Drama wasn’t even sure Claude knew any Mandarin. Pan was terrified, and Drama’s instant messaging had blown up daily with her chattering about the new woman, how no one wanted to cross her, how she was gorgeous and terrifying like a supervillain. 

Faith had strolled right up to Petra, though, and it shocked everyone when she gathered her into a warm hug. “Jeez, kid, you’re grown up already.” She smoothed back the hair that never stayed in Petra’s braids and checked her over. They had sat down together, chatting conspiratorially like sisters, and Drama couldn’t find the ability to look away. When Faith looked up at her, their eyes met, and Drama felt the rest of the room wash away into a muffle of sound that didn’t matter. She saw Faith ask about her, point with the motion of her head, maybe smile a tiny bit. Drama had gotten up and dashed out of the room without looking back.

She sat at her computer and glanced toward the workroom, pulling her hair back into a tiny, stubby ponytail. Everyone was busy. No one would bother her for a minute yet, so she pulled up Faith’s information to look over again. Ophelia had already had her go over everything in detail a few weeks before, but Drama hadn’t paid much attention until the woman was here in person. She didn’t bother to think about why, she just pulled up her file and cruised through all of it with much more fascination. There were a series of photos, some of which were blurry, though one in particular stood out. It must have been more recent. Drama glanced out at the room again, feeling like she wanted a bit more privacy. She plugged in her phone and downloaded the images, pocketing it and shutting the files down just as Faith walked into the office. 

“So,” she heard the voice to her left. She glanced sideways at the intense brown eyes looking at her. Faith’s hair was down, and the scent of something floral and spicy hit her as the woman ran her fingers through it, teasing out the ends and flipping it casually over her shoulder. “We’re sharing?” she leaned her head toward the huge desk with work stations on either side. Drama nodded and pulled her arms in shyly. She had been so used to having the office nearly to herself for the last six weeks that having Faith in the room with her now felt almost invasive. Drama reached out and pulled a few of her things clear of Faith’s side without looking at her. “Petra said you were quiet,” Faith smiled back at her. 

Drama had panicked and bolted from the room before Faith could say anything else. She thought she heard her try to object, but the door pulled closed and saved her. Now, alone on her couch, she played it over in her mind. Drama ran her fingers over her lips and formed Faith’s name inside her mouth, wishing she could hear the sound come out. Faith. She knew better than to expect anything in her to be able to make a sound. That hadn’t happened since she was a kid. She knew that was where the nightmares came from. The images flashed to her mind again, blocking out the picture of Faith, and she struggled, uncertain which to focus on. Her past won out, and she closed her eyes to see the inside of the dingy single-wide house, the mess of bottles of alcohol, the simple toys on the carpet, angry voices of her parents, and so much crying. She rubbed her face with both hands and felt the heat of the housefire that she had stood outside of and watched blaze in the night. She felt the sizzle along her back, arched at the pain of it, and pulled at her hair with both hands to clear her head. It wasn’t worth thinking about this. It didn’t make anything better, never made it go away. These dreams had haunted her for years, and they wouldn’t stop anytime soon. 

She swallowed and stretched her legs on the couch, keeping the blanket wrapped around herself. Her phone was on the table. She picked it up and went straight to the photos she had copied from her computer. Faith smiled back at her, all dimples and full lips, dark eyebrows, sultry eyes. She stared at her until the sky lightened outside. 

____________________

August 2010

Faith fished through the cooler and pulled out two bottles of beer, yanking off the caps with the opener tied to the cooler handle. She swore loudly as Petra bumped into her from behind. “Sorry!” her small friend apologized. She was carrying plates of burgers out to the grill to cook. “How many are you drinking?”

“I picked up one for…” Faith motioned and stopped herself. Drama was sitting at the edge of the patio, staring off into the trees behind the house. The sun was still strong considering how late in the evening it was, and it lit the tall girl up with golden light, outlining how she had chosen to lean over the edge of the low couch with her arms over the back of it. She had worn nicely fitting dark jeans, and Faith’s eyes traveled the line of her subtle figure, slowing down to admire the powerful shoulders under a simple white shirt with small buttons and an open collar.

Petra leaned up against Faith and stared, too. “Yeah, well, you can try, but she doesn’t drink much.” More people were coming through the house and out onto the patio. Petra waved and said hello to them.

“Maybe she just needs a bad influence in her life,” Faith suggested. She winked at Petra and walked over, sitting next to Drama, so close that the other girl jumped at her sudden presence. “You look thirsty.” She held out a bottle. Drama took it after a brief moment of hesitation. 

“Hey,” Pan sat down on the other side of Drama, glancing nervously over at Faith. “Hi, Faith,” she mumbled, clearly happy to have Drama between them.

Drama moved her head in a way that said something to her friend, then took a drink of the beer. 

“You’re actually gonna drink tonight?” Pan got excited. Drama’s eyes flicked toward Faith for an instant, which made the brunette wonder if she was only drinking the beer because it was put in her hand. She didn’t know if that was a good or bad sign. “Are you swimming later, too?” Pan teased. “I’m going for food. I’ll save you all the vegetables.”

Drama snorted and went back to watching the trees with the sunset behind them. The pool was further to their left in the massive yard. Petra had apparently decided that one of the perks of house-sitting for the people in her neighborhood was to use their house for a party, and Faith knew it was too good of an opportunity to let go. She couldn’t care less about the others in the office. They had all been easy enough to figure out. But this one, she had to run a hand through her hair as she watched her from the side. This one would hardly look at her, and Faith knew she was good at getting anyone and everyone to look at her. But in those rare moments when she would catch Drama looking, there was something about her that was so enticing, so magnetic, that Faith felt like her talent had been drained out of her, that the roles were switched, and it would have been physically painful to look away from those green eyes.

And sitting next to Faith like this, this close, with the heat of a summer day fading and the cool air from the trees on the edge of the finely manicured property sweeping up and over her, Drama knew better than to look at the woman next to her. She focused on breathing, in and out, but the air smelled like her, and she wanted to close her eyes and drink it all in.

“What’s a hot girl like you doing in a borrowed mansion like this?” Faith woke her back up. She looked side to side, thinking Pan was still there beside her, but it was just the two of them. She could hear the other people not far off. Petra had invited a bunch of other groups outside of the tech geeks, and Drama only knew one or two of them. Socializing wasn’t her thing. Faith didn’t seem to notice that about her. She was sitting sideways, leaning her head against the back of the couch, staring up adoringly into Drama’s shocked face. Petra had hooked up the stereo system from the back of the house and was turning up the music. It was getting dark. And still, there was Faith, smiling back at her with the most adorable dimples. Drama knew she should look away or get up from the couch. She should put the beer down, offer to clean up in the kitchen or something, make herself useful since talking clearly wasn’t on the menu, and that’s all these gatherings were ever about. But instead of doing any of that, instead of running and hiding, she made the clear decision to stay, to sit next to Faith, and not to look away. 

“You should tell me something about yourself that I’d never guess,” Faith took a sip of her beer. “Something…” she chewed on the thought, “something funny. Something that’ll make me laugh.” 

Drama looked down at her own beer and felt useless. Nothing came to mind. 

“It’s not that hard,” Faith joked. “I’ll show you.” She sat up a little straighter. “So when I was a kid, like maybe ten, I was alone a lot, and I used to watch TV. My favorite show at that point was Soul Train. I was obsessed.” Drama smiled at the thought. “And, of course, I knew I was the best dancer in the world, so I would dance in the living room and go completely crazy with the moves. I wanted to be on the show, but I didn’t know it was only reruns then, that it wasn’t a real thing anymore.” Drama laughed, and Faith stared intensely at her face. “That was… I… I like it when you laugh.”

Drama looked down again, feeling more than a little lost. A group of guys from the main security team walked by, stopping to talk to Faith for a minute, so Drama vanished in on herself and wished they would leave, that it could go back to the two of them, alone in the deep blue of twilight. She glanced at how easily Faith talked up to them, brushing her hair back with a perfect hand, the practiced way she lowered her eyelashes in just the right moments to make them nudge each other in the shoulder as they watched the incredibly beautiful woman in front of them. She waved them off after another polite something was said, and she pulled her legs up onto the couch under her arms. Something in Drama’s eyes must have given her away. She glanced at the group of men walking off toward the pool and then dropped her eyes again.

“It would have been a lot nicer if you would have just kissed me to make them feel like walking away sooner,” Faith quipped. Drama was startled, but she noticed that Faith immediately drained her bottle and looked out over the patio, away from her eyes. “Your turn.”

Drama’s mouth fell open. She stared at Faith blankly. Did she want her to kiss her? Her stomach instantly regretted being full of beer.

Faith looked up at her and saw the horror in her face. “A funny story? Something to make me laugh?” Faith reminded her.

Oh, her face said. Right. Not an easy thing to accomplish. She set her beer bottle on the low table and sat sideways, thinking hard about how to communicate what was in her head. She pointed to herself, then held her hand pretty low to the ground. 

“Once upon a time, when you were an adorable little tyke?” Faith interpreted.

Drama wrinkled her nose, but she nodded anyway. She made a motion with her hand, slowly drawing it out, and waited for Faith to pick it up. 

“Goldfish?”

She nodded up and down. She pretended to pick up the fish and eat it.

“Holy shit, you ate the goldfish?” Faith put her hand over her mouth, but her eyes lit up. “That is hilariously terrible!” Drama laughed with her. She looked behind Faith for just a moment and saw two of the guys from the group before who were clearly still watching Faith. Her smile dropped and she picked up the beer again.

“Whoa,” Faith looked around, “what just happened?”

‘They’re clearly watching you and think you’re beautiful,’ she signed to Faith, knowing full well that her signed words wouldn’t make any sense to anyone but herself. It still felt better to get it out. ‘I bet you get that everywhere you go.’

Faith watched all of it patiently, looking more at the expression on the blonde’s face more than anything else. “You think I like the attention,” she said back through narrowed eyes. Drama looked at her with a better focus, realizing that Faith was more perceptive than she had expected. “It’s not as fun as it looks. But sometimes it’s easier to play along. And how do you know they’re not just staring at how hot we look together?” Her smile was so fluid, so sexy and inviting that Drama nearly felt herself leaning closer toward her. 

She caught herself and put her hand down on the couch in front of her, feeling suddenly winded from how close she was sitting to Faith. She ran her free hand through her hair and tucked it behind her ear. She looked around at how many people were here now, and it felt suffocating. She hated crowds. She kind of hated people as a whole. 

“We don’t have to stay,” Faith suggested lightly. She was normally so confident, so forward about all of her intentions, but this felt gentle, like she was asking. “You wanna just… walk?”

Drama nodded. She didn’t know what she was doing, and she had no idea what they would do together, but she stood up and started to walk toward the gate out of the backyard. Faith was right behind her, but something in the sound of her movement changed, and Drama turned to look for her. One of the guys who had been staring had come back over, had his hand on Faith’s and was pulling her toward his group of friends. 

Faith smiled at him and shook it off, pulled her hand away, and moved toward Drama again. Something in her eyes said she wanted to walk faster, and so they did. They passed the grill and the table full of food, and the backs of their hands brushed against each other. Drama could feel her just there, moving alongside swiftly. They rounded the edge of the pool. But Faith’s hand moved away, and Drama lurched to a stop again, knowing he was back, feeling his presence too close to them. She turned and looked at him. He was tall and muscular, handsome, clean cut. He was smiling down at Faith, all teeth and politeness, but the way he moved around her was all wrong. His hand was on her shoulder now, and anger was boiling in Drama’s stomach over the sight of it. She looked around, but no one else seemed to notice what was happening.

“Don’t ruin my impression of you, Paul,” Faith warned him with a smile. She was trying so hard to be nice to him, but Drama could see the hand behind her back reaching out toward her, looking for contact. Drama felt pulled in her direction but hesitated to grab on, terrified that her body would do the wrong thing. “You’re sweet, but I’m not interested,” Drama heard her say. She closed her eyes and stepped in, pushing her hand into Faith’s, and looked slightly up into Paul’s blue eyes. He was only an inch taller at most. She sized him up slowly, hoping he would see the threat building in her. But their hands were still behind Faith’s back, and he clearly didn’t understand why Faith was resisting so much. 

“Just come back over for a few minutes,” he said with a smooth voice. “You shouldn’t spend all night with the Star Wars nerds. We’re way more fun.” He motioned toward his group of friends.

Faith tightened her fingers around Drama’s hand, and Drama’s body tensed horribly. She dug her feet into the concrete and shifted her eyes to the man’s hand which was still on Faith’s shoulder.

“I happen to like the nerds,” Faith moved to push her hair back and brought her free hand up against Paul’s arm, silently telling him to let go. When he didn’t, she tried to step back, reminding him, “You should let go now. You can go back and tell your super-fun friends how dickless you are.”

Drama only had a moment to register that she had just insulted him before he gave Faith’s shoulder a vicious shove, tossing her into the deep end of the pool. Drama watched her arms flail in slow motion as she lost her footing and crashed into the water. Faith’s head went under, and a gush of water cascaded over the edge of the pool, meeting with screams from all the people standing nearby. Drama dove in without taking a breath, charging headfirst into the cool water. Her body glided in without effort, scooping low in the water to Faith’s struggling limbs. She hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her to the surface in one swift motion, finding the other edge of the pool with her free left hand. Faith spluttered down the side of her neck and gasped, still shocked at what had just happened. “Motherfucker,” she cursed. She wiped her eyes and breathed into Drama’s face, noticing how close together they were. 

Drama grabbed her waist with both hands and launched her up and out of the pool onto the concrete edge. She pulled herself out next, shaking the water off her hair like she had been a lifeguard every summer of her teenaged life, which was so very far from the truth. She spent a long moment looking into Faith’s wet face, ensuring that she was okay, before she stood up and swiveled her head around the yard. Paul was striding quickly away through the massed crowd of coworkers who were pointing at Faith and Drama. 

“Hey, no, you shouldn’t-” Faith reached sideways, trying to catch Drama’s leg, but the blonde was too fast for her. She watched her take off at a coordinated jog through the crush of people and furniture, around the other side of the pool, past the barbecue grill and the tables where Petra was stacking plates, and up behind Paul. 

She grabbed his sleeve, waiting for him to turn. He faced her and looked her up and down, taking in her soaked t-shirt and jeans, and he smiled with a sneer that looked victorious and justified. Drama didn’t even blink. She lowered herself an inch, dug in her left foot, and threw her left fist into his ribs with full force. He doubled over, at which point she hiked up her right knee into his chin. He flew backwards and crashed into the couch where she had been sitting with Faith just a few minutes before. She let the breath in her chest out, and the sound of gasps and voices all around crashed into her. There was a circle of at least fifteen people gathered, watching and pointing. 

Petra ran up to her from behind. “What the hell!” she shouted. She started to say something to Drama, but Faith grabbed her shoulder and stared her down. 

“Oh he earned it,” she said. Her hair was still dripping in her eyes.

Paul groaned and slid off the couch cushions that had been dumped onto the patio beneath him. When he stood up, he drove straight for Drama, ready to hit her back, but two of his friends had already made it over to pull him away. “This isn’t done,” he was trying to say, pulling back against their arms.

“Yes it is,” Petra launched forward at him. “Get out!” she pointed at the group of them. 

Paul shook his head and raised a hand in Drama’s direction, but his friends yelled at him and yanked him backwards again, taking him out of the yard and through the house to where all the cars were parked in the circular drive.

Drama turned abruptly to check on Faith again, but Petra was there, asking her what happened and how everything had flipped and turned violent so quickly. Faith glanced up at Drama, doing her best to keep her face blank in front of Petra. “He was just being a dick,” she waved it off, but her eyes wouldn’t leave Drama’s. 

“I can’t believe he threw both of you in the pool,” Petra ran her hand over her face in dismay.

“He didn’t,” Faith’s eyes snapped to her. “He just pushed me. Hayes dove in to get me out.” She looked back toward Drama to figure out how to say thank you, but she was suddenly gone. Faith spun and caught the sight of her wet shirt slipping out through the side gate, into the night without her.


	4. Chapter 4

October 2010

“I can’t believe you still haven’t talked to her about what happened, when it’s clear that you want to.”

“Who said I wanted to?” Faith scowled at her. “We work together. Things are fine.”

“Yeah,” Petra rolled her eyes. She was getting more and more surly as the night went on. Faith checked her phone. It was almost 2 AM. She felt the liquor hitting her squarely in the forehead. “You don’t look at her like a coworker.” Petra rolled her head to loosen up her neck. She was still covered in a film of sweat from dancing for more than half the night. “Come on. She’s tall, she’s ripped like an Amazon, she’s got that quiet wounded look all the time. It’s like she was made for you.” She looked Faith up and down. “I know you’ve thought about way more than staff meetings with that girl.”

Faith sighed. “She’s not into me, and don’t even try to convince me that she could be if I just made the right move.” She’d been over it in her own head more than enough times. Drama was just one of those girls that you get to look at and not touch. That much was pretty clear. She wouldn’t make eye contact, she wouldn’t respond to instant messages, she stayed clear of every engagement that could lead to a conversation, and Faith didn’t need any more hints to tell her what all of that added up to. Her own desire had nothing to do with it. 

“So why don’t you just talk to her?”

“About what?” Faith leaned back against the bar, letting the loud music wash over her. She could feel the deep beats thrumming through the concrete floor, up into her bones, vibrating with each shift in tone.

“Anything,” Petra looked at her with a quirked eyebrow. “You share a twenty by twenty office and have to take turns looking at each other.” Faith tried to ignore her, but Petra could see the change in her facial features, the admission. “You’ve never been good at hiding what you’re feeling. It’s all over your face.” She tipped back the glass and finished her drink.

Faith frowned. She had lost count of how many Petra had had by now. She glanced at her own glass and set it back on the bar. “You’ve got so much room to talk,” she sneered at the girl. “How long are you gonna let Pan fawn over you?” 

“Maybe I like the attention.”

“Maybe she thinks it’s more than attention,” Faith turned and stared down at her. 

And, as if on cue, Pan whipped around the corner and sat back down next to Petra, glowing at her. “You wanna go dance some more?” she asked breathlessly. 

“Yes,” Petra glared victoriously back at Faith. “I’m here for fun,” she spoke to Petra, but her eyes never left Faith’s face. “Sometimes it’s nice to loosen up and do what feels good.” She skipped off with Pan to the middle of the crowded club, and Faith lost them in the crush of bodies. 

She shook her head at herself. At Petra. She had changed. Maybe they both had. Petra had been so small when Faith had found her. She closed her eyes and thought back to those early moments, holding her and telling her she wouldn’t leave, wouldn’t abandon her. The heavy beat of the club music pressed in against her ears and made her flinch. Petra had grown up, mostly, and that had nothing to do with Faith. She hadn’t been around for that part. “Must run in the family,” she said to herself bitterly. She picked up the drink from the bar and downed the rest of it, but it didn’t help. It didn’t hurt either. She looked at the guy behind the bar and held up the glass, asking for another. It didn’t take him long to bring one by.

Pan was so stiff, so adorably normal, and she couldn’t dance at all, but she stayed out on the floor, hanging on the other girl’s every move. And there was Petra, fluid and full of energy, and Faith almost wanted to look away for how much it reminded her of herself, of how she must have always looked to everyone else. Desperate and lonely in a way that crushes everything else under its need. She wanted to set that aside, to pretend that the part of her life with that theme was behind her, but it still felt like it was sitting right next to her, close enough to whisper in her ear. Sometimes she liked to listen to it. Maybe tonight, just for a little while, she would. 

So she emptied the glass again and walked out to where the girls were dancing, knowing she was proving to Petra that she was right and not caring about that at all. She moved and closed her eyes, let the rhythm drive her body to do as it pleased, and when Petra wrapped her arms around her waist, she relaxed into her, feeling her hands move in ways that should have prompted her to leave or to push her away, which she didn’t even try to do. Pan moved back, clearly unsure of herself, of how she could possibly fit anywhere around Petra with Faith dancing with her like this. So Faith did her a favor and extended a hand to pull her back in. She guided her hips against her own, feeling Pan’s hesitation, grinding against her provocatively. Petra moved closer, lost in the music, lost to all the alcohol running through her, and Faith had to look away for how intensely she drilled into her with her dark eyes. Pan tried to put her arms around Faith’s neck, and suddenly everything in the room shifted. “Not a chance, kid,” Faith glared at her. She picked her thin arms off and spun her into Petra, pushing them together. Petra leaned her forehead into Pan’s, and Faith could see how badly the younger girl was spinning inside. She moved up against Pan from behind, close enough to whisper into her ear, “We gotta call somebody to get her home.”

But Pan only shrugged and pointed slightly with a nod. Faith turned with a frown in the direction she thought Pan must have meant, and she saw Drama leaning against the bar. Her hands started to sweat. Shit. She had clearly been watching them dance for a while. And Faith was still standing there, holding onto the other girls as they danced. And she was trashed after that last whiskey. Maybe not the worst trashed she’d been in the last year, but damn close. 

She tried to let go, to step back so that she could check her clothes and her hair and maybe, just maybe not look like a complete mess in front of the girl at the bar who was leaning back, elbows on the metal surface, shirt open at the top, hair swept over to the side like she did sometimes when Faith wasn’t _really_ watching in the office. And when her hands drifted off of Pan, the girls stepped too far to one side and almost fell over. She saw Petra’s eyes blink too slowly, and she jumped back just in time to catch them both, stumbling into a few other people at the side. 

Solid arms were there next to her. They pulled her back and to the side, and the she watched Drama bend down and lift Petra into her arms, the girl’s head rolling onto her shoulder. Pan gripped onto Faith’s arm in relief and shouted over the crowd surging around them, “She’s pretty good at this part. It’s not the first time.” Faith followed the other two through the people dancing, past the bar, out the main doors, and into the cool night air. Petra’s arms swung limp at Drama’s side, clearly out cold. 

Faith drank in the refreshing air and woke herself up. This was better. She glanced at Pan beside her who suddenly looked amazingly sober. She knew better, but maybe Pan hadn’t been hitting the drinks quite so hard. “Did you say Little P did this before?” Faith asked in a hazy voice. The air had helped, but her head was still determined to spin if she let her eyes fall out of focus even a little bit. 

“Plenty.”

“Little shit,” she said as she leaned against the side of the car. She didn’t recognize it and assumed it must be Drama’s. It didn’t matter. It felt cool against her forehead. If this was Petra’s theme, she knew somehow that it was probably at least partly her fault, and that made her stomach churn. She’d been so much better since getting released, and this was no way to get back into old, bad habits, even if it was under the guise of spending time with Petra, having fun, being young.

There was that firm hand again, and it was gently pulling her up from the side of the car, helping her into the passenger seat. She landed with her head to the side, looking back at Pan holding Petra’s head in the back seat. She felt the seatbelt over her chest, heard it click, and turned just in time to feel Drama’s soft hair fall across her face. Her eyes landed on Faith for a quiet second, and Faith looked right back at her, full of wanting, full of desire. “I think you just like saving me,” she managed to say. 

And she realized at once how drunk she was, how she probably smelled like whiskey and sweat, how she never had remembered to check her hair or even make sure her clothes were on the right way. But Drama clearly hadn’t thought about any of that with how she looked back at her. Faith watched those green eyes move down her face and look at her lips where they stayed, until she finally rolled her eyes at herself and closed the door. Faith felt her sit down in driver’s seat, start the car, and move slowly out of the parking space. She was clearly trying to drive smoothly, and it crossed Faith’s mind more than once that Petra had probably lost it in the back of the car on nights in the past if Pan’s comment was true. She rolled her head back to the left and watched Drama’s face as she drove. She was focused, quiet, clearly intent on not looking back at Faith. And Faith felt like a complete idiot. Of all the moments to be a drunk disaster, she had to pick the night that Drama would be here. She tried to make a mental note to lay into Pan at the next available opportunity. It was just easier to blame someone else. 

The car stopped, Faith closed her eyes, and a few minutes later they were moving again. She looked back to check on the girls, but the backseat was empty. She frowned at Drama. “Did you take them home already?” Drama nodded. Well fuck, this was getting worse. She was out of it enough to have missed that much detail. But the road was moving past her again, so she let her head lean back and kept her eyes on Drama. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

Drama glanced at her with her eyebrows drawn together.

“I’m sorry for being a drunk disaster,” Faith clarified. 

Drama took a deep breath and stopped at a red light. Faith could feel her eyes moving over her body, slowly, taking in every detail that Faith would have killed to hide in that moment. But there was nothing for it. She watched Drama bring her eyes back up, shake her head just a tiny bit, and then a smile hit her lips. The shift in her expression was so quick, and it made Faith’s heart lift just to see it. It was a long red light. Maybe it was the tint of red light from in front of the car, but she thought she saw Drama blush just a little. 

They drove the rest of the way to Faith’s apartment, at which point she realized Pan must have given her the address. Or Drama had copied it from work and was stalking her. At this moment, that thought didn’t worry her in the slightest. Drama parked and walked around, opened her door, and crouched down to look into her face. She lifted her eyebrows and glanced at the seatbelt, asking if she needed help. Faith hesitated, trying to sit up. She had a split second to decide. She opted to go with a confused look, hoping. And there was that little smile again, so sweet on her lips. She leaned over carefully, released the buckle, and took her time backing away. Well, that wasn’t nothing. 

She stood up and let Faith work her way out of the car. It crossed Faith’s mind that maybe, just maybe this could work to her advantage. It wouldn’t be the first time in her life she’d played things a little drunker than she really was to get her way. And they’d both been avoiding what had happened a few weeks before with the pool incident. But everything had gotten so quiet after that night, and now they gave each other so much space in their shared office and in the workroom that Faith had started to believe she could have imagined the entire episode. Petra hadn’t let her forget it though. She hadn’t let her forget the look that Drama had given her, with her drenched hair and soaked clothes, that look that made her feel like everything else in the world didn’t matter as long she could keep her eyes trained on Faith. 

It was there again now, just like before. They were both leaning against the side of the car just gazing into each other’s eyes. Faith thought about throwing herself at the blonde. Maybe if she kissed her this quiet moment would fade away and they could figure out how deep this feeling went between them. She thought about reaching out for her hand, pulling her into her apartment, giving them all the space and time they would need together. But that girl just stood there, leaning on the car, with a completely smitten look on her face, her lips in just the tiniest hint of a smile. 

“It wouldn’t matter if I was as wasted as Petra,” Faith said to her. “You still wouldn’t…”

But Drama didn’t really answer. She didn’t need to, but Faith wanted to see some sort of reaction in her. All she got was that steady face, those cool green eyes unflinching. She stepped away from the car and walked toward the door of the building, walking slow and straight. She stopped inside and turned around to see Drama sit in the car and put her face in both hands.

____________________

January 2011

“Ah, Faith,” Murdock set her paperwork aside and gave the woman entering her office her attention. Faith closed the door behind her and sat on the couch in the center of the office. The Director joined her on the chair opposite. “I understand you have some concerns about our upcoming operation?”

Faith looked out the window in a distracted way. “I’m not sure they’re ready for something high profile like this.”

“It’s normal for a team this new to have some… friction around the edges.”

Faith sat back and folded her arms over herself. “So you think giving them a common enemy is going to bring them together?” She laughed, but her face was drawn. “That works in movies. With scripts.” She sat forward. “You’ve put together a group of misfit kids who are all prodigies with no respect for consequences.”

Murdock raised a single eyebrow. “I’m going to ignore the irony in that one… You’re aware that most of them have already faced incarceration.”

“Well clearly time behind bars doesn’t reform everything,” she snapped, standing up and walking toward the window. She looked down on the city forty floors below. “Boston can barely work in a group setting for his PTSD, Scotty’s likely to bond with anyone who spends more than five minutes with him, Claude pushes every button she can find to divide everyone.”

“And Petra,” Murdock supplied, knowing why Faith was as angry as she was.

Faith spun and glared at her with fury. “You were supposed to keep her safe. We had a deal.”

“Safe from what, exactly?” the Director stood and held her ground against her top security agent. “I believe I fulfilled my end of the arrangement. Youth Services is still sending me thank you cards.”

Faith drove into her with a finger extended. “You promised to get her help. Counseling. Whatever it took to give her something normal. And just look at her,” her voice broke slightly, revealing just how much hurt this was causing. “Do you know what she’s doing out there? Every weekend? With anybody who’ll look at her…” She looked away. Her criticisms felt too personal, too close to her own weaknesses.

Murdock swept a hand over her head and along the back of her neck, rubbing away the tension gathering there. “She’s a human with a life to direct for herself. You know I cannot force her to attend counseling sessions, nor would it do any good to try. And is she really so different than-”

“No.” Faith looked back up, silencing Murdock. “That’s not what this is about.” She breathed through tense muscles, ribs shaking with the effort. “She’s not ready for this. She’s not ready for something that could bring her closer to what we got her out of. I want her out of this one. Reassign her.”

“Very well,” Murdock sighed. “But the most I can do at this point is to keep her here, in the office. I’m willing to admit that she’s not the best choice for field work. But I cannot keep her from the work that we need her to do.”

“I can live with that.”

Murdock lifted her chin slightly. “I won’t make you reject my other choices, but you need to decide who you’ll take from the team if it’s not Petra. I’m aware that you’ll likely propose that you should go alone, but that won’t fulfill our safety requirements, so please don’t waste my time.”

Faith closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. She had known this would happen, and she still wasn’t prepared for what she knew she had to do. “Give me Hayes.”

“Faith,” she said in a warning tone, “she can’t use the radio, which is a primary-”

“I don’t care, and she doesn’t have to,” Faith defended her decision firmly. “The field op is mine, the choice is mine. And you know that Hayes is the best we have. No one else on the team even comes close.”

Murdock sighed heavily. She thought about challenging Faith. She considered overruling her as her boss, but she knew the rebellion that would create, and it wasn’t worth it. It didn’t help to know that Faith was right, that Drama really was well-suited to the task, and that this would be the opportunity Ophelia needed to demonstrate what her team could accomplish to Corporate. She nodded.


	5. Chapter 5

March 2011

Scotty stared at the folder in front of him nervously. “Are we allowed to open this before she gets in here?” he said sideways to Boston.

“Probably not cool.”

They looked the other direction at Pan and Petra who were already comparing notes on the contents of their folders. Scotty frowned back at Boston. “Are they exempt from the rules?”

“Good morning,” the Director appeared inside the door without a sound, making both of the guys at the end of the table jump in their chairs. Scotty looked across the table and saw Drama smirk at him and then hide her face perfectly as she swept her hair back and looked toward their boss with her full attention. Murdock sat at the head of the table and motioned all of them toward their folders. “I hope you’ve had sufficient time to review the case files I’ve provided.” Scotty gulped. “I’d like to focus our time in this meeting on determining the resources each of you will need as we plan our overall strategy.”

Faith opened the door quietly, passed by Murdock, nodded to her discreetly, and sat between Scotty and Petra. 

“Faith?” Murdock put her copy of the file folder down. “I trust you have your team assembled?”

“All wrapped up,” Faith’s firm voice made Scotty feel even more nervous behind her. It was as though the Director didn’t terrify her at all. “Did you get my formal request for those vans?”

“I’ve already forwarded it on to requisition for processing. I anticipate a response within the week. Oh,” her eyelashes were so long that Scotty felt himself staring and decided he should look down at his own copy of the files, “I’m afraid I had to modify the request. Vans are too conspicuous.”

Drama held up a notepad that she had written on with a sharpie. ‘Wheels and a laptop.’

“You’ll most certainly have the essentials, but I think you’ll be pleased with what we provide,” Murdock assured both of them. “Petra, Pan, we’re going to need some significant research conducted in a short period.” 

Murdock looked like she wanted to say more, but Petra interrupted her. “Actually, I’ve already started?” her statement ended with her voice rising, as though it was a question. “I have some findings, if you’re ready for that part.” Murdock stared at her, unblinking. “Is it too early? Should I save that for a different meeting?”

“No,” the Director recovered. “Please go ahead.”

“Cool,” Petra smiled. “I’ve dug up twenty-three individuals on this side of the border with connections to Coyotero, nineteen of which fit our profile for data acquisition. There’s a much bigger cohort in Mexico and a few other Central American countries, but that’s going to take a little longer to tease out. Pan is building an in-house make-up of their target patterns, but it still looks like anyone who’s a migrant worker with family in Mexico is a potential mark.”

Boston raised his hand, closing his folder. Scotty sighed and closed his eyes as he realized that his friend had just speed-read the entire contents. “Why are we sticking our necks out for this one, Director? There are plenty of Federal level teams working on drug and weapons smuggling operations. We’re likely to cross paths with them in more than a few places. This is high risk.”

Murdock nodded slowly, just once. “Objection noted, Mr. Brick-”

“Boston,” he interrupted her so quickly that his word sounded more like a cough. “Please, just… Boston.”

The Director smiled at him for a moment in apology. “Of course, Boston. While you are correct that other agencies are pursuing the general movement of materials over the border, none of them are in the least concerned with the exploitation of the individuals and families involved. Mr. Peterson?” She looked directly at Scotty. “You look a bit lost. Shall we catch you up?” He swallowed the bile in his throat and nodded. “Very well. Faith?”

Faith tossed her hair over her shoulder and scowled at Scotty for slowing them down. He cringed at what she might say later. “The bad guys on this side of the world threaten farm workers and laborers into running guns and drugs back across the Mexican border by showing them footage of their family members being hurt, taken hostage, whatever it takes. It’s easy enough to get runners coming this way, but no one wants to take anything back south. It’s too dangerous going through the crossing, and the threat of deportation doesn’t work, since…. Obviously.”

“I’m actually surprised the government doesn’t care more.” Petra pulled at her braids. “It’s a big hit to the economy to lose workers from one season to the next, and Uncle Sam spends a lot of money on importing poverty.”

“Well,” Murdock tipped her head elegantly to the side, “we know how short-sighted those in power can be.”

Drama held up her pad again. Her huge sharpie letters said, ‘Always more,’ and Petra rolled her eyes, knowing that Drama was right. There never seemed to be a shortage of people trying to find their way across the border. 

Scotty watched Petra’s gaze and thought she might be taking this personally. He didn’t know if she was Latina, but she might not know either. He cleared his throat. “I’ll find all of the government contracts for the last six months pertaining to cross-border targeted inspections. I can cut those links long enough to give us a window to work in. Do we have any friendly contacts inside BPD?”

“Just one,” Murdock wrote something on her own notepad, tore the page off, and asked the others to pass it down to Scotty. “I’d like to be ready to start surveillance in a fortnight.”

“Why not earlier?” Faith challenged slightly.

“This case has many loose threads around the edges, Faith. I’d like them all stitched in neatly once we finish. We can’t afford mistakes or sloppy work with the level of visibility that the Mexican border gives us.” She switched her gaze pointedly to Drama. “I need absolute perfection.”

Drama only blinked, as if to say that she didn’t know how to deliver anything less.

____________________

“You okay, kid?” Faith leaned against the vending machine and looked everywhere except directly at Petra, who was kicking the giant metal box to get her bag of chips out. The coil inside had turned just far enough for the bag of Tim’s to rest against the glass front, but not enough to fall. “You seem edgy.”

“Says the woman who wears leather for fun?” Petra eyed her and then went back to assaulting the machine. 

“Ouch,” Faith winced playfully. “Leather emphasizes my curves,” she smiled. “And I do actually ride a motorcycle, you know.”

“Cows don’t die to make Kevlar.”

“Do you even know if your family could have come from Mexico?” Faith pressed her back into the machine, hoping Petra would eventually lose interest in beating the shit out of it. “Why don’t you just buy another one? They’ll both fall out.”

“Not the point!” she slammed her hand into the glass, but the machine barely moved. “And I don’t know, but I just… I just feel like…” She couldn’t finish. She turned around and leaned against the glass, still facing away from her friend. “What if that’s why I could never find them?”

“Maybe you’re better off without them,” Faith lifted her chin, suddenly wishing the chip bag would fall so that they could move, walk somewhere, get out of this moment that she really didn’t want to be in now that she had created it. 

She could feel Petra frown at her and cross her arms over her chest in defiance. “That’s your family. Not mine,” she said angrily. 

“Your family is who you choose.”

“Yeah? Well I’d very much like to choose the people who look like me, who think like I do, who I have something in common with.” She turned on Faith. “Do you have any idea how many white families they placed me with? How much bullshit I had to put up with about my hair, or not wanting to be slathered in coconut oil because their one black friend said that’s what to do with brown skin? Goddammit, my hair is curly and obnoxious, and I’m allergic to coconuts!” she shouted. She kicked the bottom of the machine with her tiny foot.

Faith raised an eyebrow at her. “You realize there’s probably coconut oil in those chips, right?”

Petra growled and slammed into her with both hands pushing her back toward the wall, but Faith only smiled since Petra was so underweight. “Fuck you, Faith!” she screamed, but Faith could see her wanting to smile under it all.

Motion caught her eye. Faith looked to the side and saw Drama lean over in her chair and stare from the office. She got up, walked down the hallway, examined the chip bag hanging in mid-air, and pointed to it while looking at Petra. When Petra nodded, Drama went around to the other side. They both followed her with their eyes and leaned to the side to watch. Drama crouched down all the way to the ground, put both hands under the bottom of the machine, lifted it a fraction, and dropped it. The chip bag fell into the tray. Drama stood up, tossed her hair back, flicked her eyes toward Faith for another moment, and wandered off.

Petra cleared her throat. “Is this the part where you pretend not to be impressed by that?” she raised her eyebrows at Faith and rescued the chip bag.

“Yep,” Faith eyes were still on the woman who shared her office. If she closed her eyes, she could still feel the sensation of Drama’s hands on her hips, lifting her effortlessly up and out of the water, setting her safely at the edge of the pool in the dying summer twilight.

“I bet her glutes are completely solid,” Petra ate a chip as loudly as possible. “And those arms? I bet she has amazing stamina.”

“You can stop now,” Faith said in a tone that was almost pleading. She turned and gave Petra a warning glance.

“You remember the pool incident from a few months ago?” Petra went on, again, for the tenth time that week alone. “How could you forget! You know, she comes off as totally androgynous most of the time, but that wet t-shirt really revealed that she is all girl. Don’t you think?”

“Fine, what do you want?”

“Oh, nothing,” Petra’s smile was huge. “It’s just nice to watch you squirm for a change. Are you gonna ask her out?”

“What?” Faith tried to look like the thought hadn’t occurred to her.

“She’s into you,” Petra ate another chip. “Pan thinks so, too.” Faith tried to get her to stop, but Petra was on a roll and was very pleased with herself for having the other woman on her heels. “She’s single,” she checked off on her fingers, “employed, has a dog, lives alone, I think her hair is naturally that color, which is awesome,” she pushed her own braids back, “and, best of all, she is seriously hot. How are you not throwing yourself at her?”

“It sounds like you’re the one who wants to date her,” Faith resigned herself.

“I do like blondes,” Petra thought for a second, “but it’s pretty clear she only has eyes for you anyway.”

Faith glanced over her shoulder at the office again, but the door was closed now, and she couldn’t see anything. “You think so?” She could hear Petra snicker. “What kind of car does she drive?”

“I’m sorry, you care about what, exactly?”

“It’s important. It says a lot about a person,” Faith answered defensively. “Like, duh, me on a Ducati. Hot as fuck. Tells you everything you need to know.”

Petra looked her up and down with a half frown. “True, up until the point you started playing this month’s long game about her, and now I’m not sure who the hell you are.” Faith looked away. “Please,” Petra held up a hand, “You’ve been chasing her since the day you started working here.” They both sighed and leaned back against the vending machine at the same time.

“Okay, fine,” Faith breathed. “I like her, and this feels different. She’s different.”

“Duh, she doesn’t talk ever.”

“No,” Faith waved her off and started chewing on her thumb. “That’s not… I like that about her. She’s just different. And trust me, I’ve tried more than a few times to get her attention, and nothing really seems to work. I mean, I can tell she’s interested, but… she just won’t.”

“Maybe she doesn’t want to make you feel like she’s taking advantage or objectifying you.”

Faith sighed. “Or I’m losing my touch.”

“No way. You’re a vixen,” Petra reassured her. “She’s just kinda slow. Give her time. I mean, you’ll have plenty since you’re on surveillance together soon. In a car. All night long. Alone.” She finished the chips and tossed the bag in the garbage can across the hallway, then looked comfortingly at Faith. “1987, fully restored Range Rover Classic. Blue.” She walked off and left her friend with the vending machine.

Faith gritted her teeth and swore quietly. That was definitely a sexy car.


	6. Chapter 6

April 2011

“Four-zero-six, foxtrot yankee bravo,” came the staticky voice from the radio. Drama watched Faith key the mike and respond, wait for another license to be called out, over and over. Drama entered each number, one at a time, pulling up make and registration information on each vehicle. 

“Sounds like there might be a break for a while,” Faith said without looking at her. “You hungry? I could kill for a burger.” She started the car and drove off into the light traffic. It was dark, which was happening later in the evening now that spring was almost over. Drama focused on the laptop again, wishing she could explain how much she despised greasy food. But this was what surveillance was made of, and she didn’t want to object to Faith’s choice of dinner plans. Faith handled the SUV with one hand and played with the car stereo with the other. She searched through channels, but couldn’t find what she wanted. She took her hand away to make a left turn, and Drama reached over, finding the classic rock station she knew Faith liked. 

Faith glanced at her. “Do you actually like Black Sabbath, or are you just trying to keep me happy?”

Drama waited for just the right moment, then looked back at her and mouthed the lyrics as the song played, “I…. Am….. Iron…. Man.”

Faith laughed loudly, her face falling into a complete smile that Drama hadn’t seen in days. “Oh shit, that was perfect.” She wiped at her eyes and stopped the car in the drive-through line behind the other vehicles. It had been a very long week of shifts in the car and in the office, and both of them were tired from the overtime, from how some parts of this operation moved at a snail’s pace. Faith rolled up to the glowing menu and ordered herself a cheeseburger combo with bacon. She moved forward without ordering the usual dinner for Drama, who looked at her like she’d been slapped. “Yeah, I forgot to tell you,” Faith reached behind her and pulled over a small cooler. She opened it with her right arm outstretched, pulled out a huge salad in a clear box, and dropped it on Drama’s lap. “I already got you something.” Drama looked down at it and didn’t quite know what to do. “You haven’t said anything, but I can tell you aren’t into junk food.”

Drama wanted to say thank you somehow, but Faith was already busy collecting her food and looking for a parking space, so she shoved the laptop away on its stand and searched through the glovebox for a fork. They ate in silence for a while. Everything felt awkward. Faith was usually so chatty that Drama didn’t feel the need to fill the silence, but, for the first time she could remember, Faith didn’t have any great stories to tell her. And she had been full of them for the first ten days. Drama was starting to feel like she might know her better now than anyone else in the office, except maybe Petra, and no one had ever really figured out what their connection was. 

She set the salad aside and pulled the laptop back closer, opening up a text file to type. She made sure Faith could see the words on the screen. ‘Once upon a time, back when I was in juvie,’ she started, but Faith interrupted her.

“Wait, you were in juvie?” She was maybe even smiling. Drama nodded. “How long?” Drama held up four fingers. “Wow, that’s a long time.”

Drama went back to typing. ‘I’d been in for a while, and this new kid showed up. Small like me.’ Faith looked at her now and struggled to reconcile the thought of her being small. Sure, she was trim, but her frame was solid, strong, and she was taller than Faith by at least a couple of inches. ‘Tiny, actually. She reminded me of-‘ Drama stopped typing suddenly, and looked sharply at the woman sitting next to her. Her face colored, and she rubbed her hands on her thighs. 

“What?” Faith asked innocently. “Who did she remind you of?”

Drama clearly struggled with admitting the truth, but she eventually typed, ‘I had an imaginary friend for the longest time when I was a kid. It’s stupid.’ She looked out the window, reluctant to say anything more.

Faith realized her mouth was open. She reached up to pull her hair out of her face, but it was already tied back. She hadn’t bothered to make herself look anything beyond barely presentable all week because there was just no way to make sitting in a car for twelve hours a day glamorous. She watched Drama from the corner of her eye. “It’s not stupid.” Drama blinked at her. “It’s better than being lonely.” They looked at each other for long enough that Faith started to feel self-conscious. “So tell me about this kid.”

Drama took a breath and went back to the keyboard. ‘There was this other group of girls who were terrible.’ Faith could see something cloud up in the woman’s eyes, and she knew better than to ask any more. ‘Kenzie couldn’t fight back. They won every time. I made this plan to get even with them, but it took a long time. Weeks. I had to fake being sick, got into the infirmary, stole a bunch of laxatives. I worked in the kitchen on Tuesdays.’ Faith could see her smirk at the memory, and she started to smile along, having a feeling she knew where this was going. ‘I dumped all of it into Kenzie’s tray, but I warned her not to eat it. To let the girls take it. They did.’

“Holy crap,” Faith chuckled. “Like literally, I’m sure. So were you two best friends after that?”

Drama’s expression darkened very suddenly. She pulled her hands off the keyboard and looked around for her water bottle, taking a long drink. She shook her head, no.

“I don’t get it,” Faith’s smile was fading. “Who wouldn’t like you for getting even like that?”

Drama sighed back at her and slowly typed, ‘She hated me. Called me a mute dyke, started a fight with me.’ She leaned forward, pulled off the thin training sweatshirt she had on, and rolled up the left sleeve of her t-shirt. Faith could see the outline of a scar, which looked very much like a bite wound. ‘She was fine after that. Ended up with the older girls, scored lots of loyalty points.’

Faith felt all of the words in her chest leak out with her next breath. She crumpled up her burger wrapper and stuffed it into the bag, tossing it behind the driver’s seat. She looked over at Drama after they had both lost interest in staring out of their own windows. Drama had typed something new, so she leaned a bit to see.

‘I was trying to say thanks. For being nice.’ She shrugged and looked apologetic. ‘I’m not good at stories like you are.’

“What about your imaginary friend?” Faith offered.

Drama smiled in an embarrassed sort of way and shifted in her seat. ‘Please don’t tell anyone about that. Ever.’

Faith’s eyebrows contracted. “Why would I do that?” Drama looked at her in wonder. “Fine,” Faith tilted her head. “I had a stuffed bear until I was like twelve or something,” she admitted. “His name was…. Nugget. That’s totally dumb, right?” Drama smiled back at her and shook her head just enough that her hair drifted over the tops of her ears in a messy way. 

‘Mine was Julie. She was my best friend. Like a little sister.’ Drama couldn’t quite bring herself to look into Faith’s eyes. When she did, she had a hard time pulling herself away. Everything about Faith was so beautiful and so sweet when it was just the two of them like this. It made her heart pound in an uncomfortable way. ‘My parents would leave for days at a time, so I had her, and it was okay. She was just always there.’

“How did you turn out so well-adjusted?” Faith asked with a scrunched nose. Drama’s eyes went a bit wide. “No… Shit, that’s not what I-” Faith put her hands over her face. “I’m sorry,” she said through her fingers. “That was totally rude.”

She could hear Drama typing and looked up to see that she had written, ‘Usually you make everyone else feel awkward, not the other way around.’ And she was smiling back at her. ‘I didn’t turn out that great.’

“Yes you did,” Faith resolved to take the chance and be honest. “You’re really smart, you’re organized. You’re like, what, twenty-one or so? And you eat salads without having to be told to.” Faith was shaking her head. “And every night we’re out here you exercise. Petra says you run all the time and that you’re good.” 

Drama could feel Faith’s eyes on her, could feel how intensely the other woman was looking over every inch of her. She’d never had anyone pay attention to the details like Faith had obviously been doing. ’24,’ she typed. ‘And I exercise too much because it’s the only place I can have any control. But I do like salads.’ Her smile faltered. ‘I don’t talk.’ Typing those words was almost painful. She choked a little and turned away from Faith, knowing that she couldn’t hide her reaction.

“Yeah, well,” Faith’s voice was rough, and it was enough to make Drama glance back at her. “I get in trouble to get attention, I do dangerous stuff for no reason, and I drink to avoid thinking about all of it.” Drama watched her stretch her shoulders, shift in the seat, then extend her forearms out across the steering wheel. Faith rested her head sideways on her outstretched arms, staring back at the blonde. “And you clearly do talk… Just, only when you have something to say.”

____________________

May 2011

Drama counted in her head slowly. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-one. Twenty-two. Tricep dips on the back bumper of the car weren’t much fun, but she had to do something with her energy, and being stuffed in an SUV for days at a time was making her body twitch from inactivity. She had started running almost every morning, knowing that she would be behind the laptop screen for the rest of the day, but it still wasn’t enough. Faith had come to expect it like clockwork. Around eleven each night, Drama would step out, stretch, and work her muscles for forty minutes or an hour. It was starting to be a compulsion. But at least she could make it through the final two hour stretch before shift change at midnight and the hour long drive back up to Seattle. A fine film of sweat gathered on her lower back as she pressed on. The nights were warming up, and summer was starting to edge in around the corners of the longer days. 

Drama realized suddenly that she was being watched. She flipped her head up to see Faith standing a few feet away with a look of pure enjoyment on her face. She stopped moving as her eyes drifted from Faith’s gorgeous hair, which was down for the first time in she couldn’t recall how long, over her bare shoulders, down the incredibly tight and revealing split front red tank, to the tight black jeans hugging every single curve. Her sweaty left hand slipped off the bumper and sent her scrambling not to fall on the asphalt like a complete idiot. She stood up roughly and shook herself off, wishing Faith hadn’t just seen how clumsy she was.

“Does that mean I look alright?” Faith tipped her head to the side playfully. Drama remembered suddenly that tonight was supposed to be different, that they had a separate part of the plan to engage in, and she felt a knot tighten in her stomach. She didn’t like this plan one bit. They had even argued about it in the office a few days before, but Faith had insisted that she knew what she was doing, and everything would be cool. Looking at her now, Drama felt anything but cool. She was flustered and hot with sweat and unease, and she couldn’t think of a valid reason to tell Faith not to go, not to do something so risky, which made her that much angrier at herself. “I can see that look in your eyes, Hayes,” Faith warned her. “And don’t start. We have ten minutes, and you know I’ll be back in less than thirty.” Her eyes and her tone were firm. “But the mirror in the car is shit, so can you please just make sure I look okay?” Faith brushed her hair back a bit and held her arms out, asking again with her eyes.

Drama nodded and rolled her shoulders back to get herself to let it go. No use arguing now. She stepped closer and looked Faith over, silently praying that her expression wouldn’t give away how much she was actually enjoying this opportunity. Her eyes rested on Faith’s lips. She pointed, trying to signal to her that there was something wrong. 

Faith held out the lipstick expectantly. “You know how to use this stuff?” she said with a raised eyebrow.

Drama smiled with her whole face and mimed writing all over Faith’s body with the makeup. She stopped and settled on smiling in a way she hoped was reassuring, then opened the lipstick and attempted to fix the line of Faith’s lower lip. Her hand rested gently against the edge of Faith’s chin as she worked, but it didn’t escape her attention that she was so close, that she could feel Faith breathing on her skin, watching her from mere inches away. She lowered her eyes for a moment once she was done. 

“So…” Faith looked at her with a coy expression, “sexy but completely unattainable. Right?”

Drama wanted to nod, to move somehow, but her body felt frozen. They were close enough to kiss, to fumble and catch hold of waistbands, to taste skin under tongues and brush hair with eyelashes, and her hands trembled with nothing to hold, nowhere to safely go. She thought, if only for a moment, that Faith was breathing in the same way, holding herself close but not touching even though her mind must have been thinking the exact same thoughts.

“That kinda looks like a yes,” Faith whispered to her. The corner of her mouth twitched, and Drama realized that Faith was smiling at her, but something about this smile was private, intimate. She blinked for just a second, but it was long enough for her to feel the cool handle of the handgun Faith pressed into her other hand. Drama jumped a fraction. She looked down at the gun, at Faith’s cleavage right under her own face, and willed herself to step back an inch. “You know I can’t take that along,” Faith said softly. “You’ve got my back, right, Hayes?”

Drama felt the hair at the back of her neck sticking to her skin. She hated guns. She despised the violence that came with them, and she refused to be part of it in any way. So, of course, she nodded. _Yep. Got your back._

Faith swept away without a backwards glance. Drama watched her walk across the parking lot and around the building on the corner, her eyes following the perfect sway of her hips. She ducked into the car and turned on the radio, listening for the cues from the rest of the team. Faith had six blocks to walk, which felt like ten miles for as long as it took. Drama clicked on the computer, pulling up the surveillance video they had set up at the beginning of the operation. It was going to be simple. At least that’s what Faith had said over and over to reassure her. Faith’s job was simply to distract the guy standing watch in the parking lot long enough for Maxwell to slip inside the gate, drop GPS tags on two cars, and walk out. And if Faith was good at anything, it was distracting men from what they should be doing. Drama closed her eyes and pulled a breath into her lungs to steady her nerves. Murdock had thought it was well overdue to have tech ops out in the field with security, but these moments made Drama doubt her. 

Two voices interacted on the radio. Drama watched Faith approach the guard, ask him something with words, with her whole body, and she realized how captivating Faith could be even on a blurry video feed from the far side of the street. No one ever saw the other agent slip into the lot or back out again, and the gun resting behind Drama’s back never moved. She watched the guard reach out toward Faith, saw that Faith dodged him easily, maybe said thank you for giving her directions, and she swayed back out of view.

A light flashed through the passenger window and scared the hell out of Drama. She snapped the laptop shut and shoved the mobile console to the center of the dashboard, smacking her hand painfully on it in the process. She knew her windows had enough tint to keep out most light, but she still felt the sharp panic in her chest, which only increased when the light was rapped against the glass by a firm hand. She could see the police officer outside clearly. Drama blindly grabbed the handgun and stuffed it beside the bucket seat, jamming it firmly down and out of eyesight. She looked at the window and cursed in her head, realizing she couldn’t roll the window down without putting the key into the ignition, and that was still resting in the driver’s seat where Faith had left it. 

He tapped on the glass again. “Can you step out of the car, please?” his voice was muffled through the exterior of the car. Drama checked herself once more and opened the door, stepping out into the light of his flashlight in her face. She kept her hands out in plain sight. “You’ve been parked here a while,” he flicked the flashlight over the interior of the car briefly, long enough for Drama to take in his relaxed stance, buzzcut brown hair, pale skin marked from too much sun exposure. He was wearing a Tacoma PD uniform, but his radio didn’t have the lapel mike that she expected. “Did I see you here last night, too?” he asked. She nodded and shrugged, tried to look apologetic. 

Getting pulled over, being stopped, having questions asked, these were all a nightmare scenario for Drama. She felt lucky if cops didn’t think she was being hostile by not talking, but they never understood and never assumed she was anything other than suspicious.

“Is this your car?” He didn’t smile, but he was pleasant, like he wanted to come off as easy to talk to. But Drama knew the clock was ticking. She was going to run out of time. She wanted to find a way to explain, to come up with a believable cover story as to why she had been parked there for two nights, why he might have seen that same car in that very neighborhood every night for over two weeks at this point, but this scenario hadn’t come up, and Faith would have been the one to cover them anyway. She had a knack for that kind of thing, and explanations all sounded so believable coming from her lips. A part of Drama was praying that Faith would walk around the corner right now, would dive in and save her from all of this, but she knew how long it had taken for her to walk the six blocks over, and there was no way she could make it back faster unless she had run. 

“Uh,” the officer scanned her with the flashlight, “pal?” She could tell he was confused, that the blocky shoulders and short hair weren’t helping him, that he didn’t know whether to call her miss or sir, and his comfort was fading away with each passing moment that she didn’t save him with something, anything from her mouth. “I need to see the registration for the car, and I need your license.”

Drama wanted to rub her hands over her face, to let the buzz of frustration and fear out of her body with some kind of movement, but she knew better than to make a move that might set him off. She’d been through that too many times. She slowly moved her hand, making sure he could see her, into her pocket, pulled out her license, handed it to him. She tried to motion to the car to indicate that the registration was in there somewhere. He didn’t seem to want it now that he had the card with her face on it. 

He shined the light back up at her, then down at the license. “Wait right here, please.” Drama watched him walk back to his car. He sat in the passenger seat, swung his own laptop around, started punching in her info. Shit. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She didn’t dare move, but her brain played out a hundred different scenarios of running, jamming the key in the car and driving the hell out of there, getting away from all of this somehow. But she couldn’t leave Faith, she couldn’t outrun a cop, and the realization of the moment steadily sunk into her nerves that this night was going every manner of wrong that it possibly could. How could she have been so stupid? She should have been scanning the police radio, listening for dispatch locations, tracking cars. She knew Pan could set her computer up for that, but she just hadn’t thought it would be important enough. Now she realized her own stupidity was about to land her in the back of that squad car, on the way to a precinct office, and firmly back into a cell. 

The police officer emerged from the car with a heavy frown, and Drama knew he had seen her record. She didn’t have any outstanding warrants, but two convictions couldn’t possibly make her look like the kind of person who gets to just drive off. Had he called for backup yet? He was about to say something to her, when he stopped and shifted his flashlight up and to her left. 

“Good evening, officer,” came an immensely perky voice behind her. Drama wanted to turn, wanted nothing more than to see Faith, to try to explain with her eyes that she hadn’t meant to land them in this shit, but she couldn’t. “Is everything okay?”

“Are you two together?” he asked carefully. Drama felt his eyes comb over Faith’s body, every inch of her, and she hated him for it. 

Faith took the cue from between his words and leaned up against Drama’s body, slipping a hand through her elbow, and looking up at her adoringly. Drama’s entire body went rigid with the effort of not moving. Now wouldn’t be a good time to lash out, to feel defensive, and she felt an even more intense self-loathing for how this must feel to Faith, this woman she could desire and lust over forever and never be able to have touch her, except when her life was in danger and Faith was the only one who could rescue her. “She was just waiting for my shift to end at the club,” Faith explained like it was the most obvious thing ever. “You know the one up on ninth?” 

The officer raised his eyebrows at the two of them together, Drama unmoving and clearly terrified, Faith fluid and happy and not the slightest bit bothered to have a police officer asking them questions at midnight in the middle of a shady part of the city. “You work up there?”

“My cousin Ricky owns the place. You know him?” Drama wanted to choke at how perfectly Faith played her part. She never could have done that, especially under this sort of pressure.

“Not personally,” he shrugged and clicked the flashlight off. It went back in his pocket, and his hand extended Drama’s license out to her without hesitation. He looked at her though, “You should really drive closer to pick your girlfriend up. Don’t make her walk through this neighborhood in the dark.” He nodded at both of them, then walked back to his car and shut the door, driving off into the darkness.

As soon as he was out of view, Faith tried to move around, to extend her other arm around Drama’s body, but the blonde jumped back against the car door and slammed a fist into it, pulling all of herself away. 

“Shit!” Faith shouted. “He’s gone. Chill out!” She moved closer again, but Drama cringed and pulled her arms up into fists without being able to stop herself. Faith halted just in time, watching the blonde put the fists up to her own face in agony, then run them through her loose hair. She looked like she could cry or scream or tear Faith apart, but the brunette didn’t know which of those would be worse. “Come on, Hayes. Everything’s okay.” Faith’s voice was kind, but Drama could hear the fear in her. She sidestepped and started to storm off down the street. “No!” Faith shouted after her. “No, you can’t walk away now. We have to get back in the car and get out of here. Now.” She was insistent, and Drama knew she was right. She spun on her heel, ducked past Faith’s outraged posture, opened the door, stepped in, and slammed it shut. 

“What the absolute fuck is this all about now?” Faith mumbled as she walked around the car. She hopped into the seat and slammed her own door. “Seriously, Hayes. What the hell is up with you all of a sudden?” She was shouting, but Drama wouldn’t look at her. “You just sat here and let him drive up on you? And then you freak out when I salvage things? Are you actually that embarrassed to be seen with me or have someone think I could be your girl? Because like five seconds ago you were hanging off of me like there was no one else in the whole world, and now you can’t stand to have me touch you!” She was so angry she was practically spitting, and Drama could only stare at her blankly, at the rage pouring off of her. “You’re nothing but a bunch of goddamned mixed signals, and I’m fucking sick of wanting you to want me back!” Her eyes cut into Drama, and neither of them could do anything but breathe into the silence after Faith’s outburst.

The car was moving, Faith was driving them back up the freeway, moving steadily on the nearly empty roadway, and Drama couldn’t remember her even starting the car. She pulled out a pad of paper from her bag behind the seat, wrote slowly for a long time. Faith looked over at her every so often, but they didn’t speak again. When they parked inside the garage for their building in downtown Seattle, Drama left the note on the seat of the car and walked off. Faith clenched the steering wheel and watched her walk down the stairs to the floor below where her car was parked. She picked up the note and read it.

> I’m sorry I ruined tonight. It was a stupid mistake. You were right. There isn’t anyone else in the whole world but you. But I can’t do relationships. I can’t control my fists, and I don’t want to hurt you. Please don’t argue when M puts me back on desk duty.

Faith leaned her head back against the headrest of the car and closed her eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

May 2011

“I appreciate that you understand the risks this presents,” Murdock said calmly. Drama’s eyes rarely left the surface of the table in the meeting room, but Faith was buzzing with energy from where she sat. “I think we should count ourselves fortunate that things didn’t result in a loss of integrity for this investigation, and I also appreciate that you,” she looked at Faith, “managed to salvage the situation quietly.” Her fingers drummed against the report Drama had submitted before Faith had even gotten into the office that morning. She would have tried to stop her somehow, reason with her, come up with a way they could reframe everything, but she knew deep down that Drama wouldn’t have agreed anyway. “I’m granting your request to return to the office full time,” she looked at Drama, politely excusing her.

Faith leaned forward in her chair once the door was closed again. “That’s not the right answer, and you know it. This was just a stupid thing, and it won’t happen again.”

Murdock looked at her from lowered eyelids. “Faith, you need to let this go. It was her request, and I’m honoring it. And truly,” she sighed, “it saved me having to make the decision anyway, and you know that’s exactly what I would have required. There is no room in this business for careless mistakes.”

“Dammit, Phe,” Faith started, but Murdock held up a firm hand.

“ _Director Murdock_ ,” she said very slowly.

Faith stood up and paced to the window, pulling her hair back with both hands. “I need her out there with me. She’s the best. You and I both agreed that-”

“And I stand by that decision,” Murdock cut her off, but her volume was rising. “But you know as well as I do that we cannot tolerate any risk that would jeopardize this operation! This includes having personal identification queried through local police software!”

“What was she supposed to do, talk him out of it?” Faith spun on her angrily.

Pan walked casually by the meeting room to refill her coffee cup, even though it was only half empty. She stared wide-eyed at Drama in the other office behind her own windows, knowing that everyone on that half of the floor could hear the argument happening between Faith and Murdock. Drama eyed her for a second and sunk down low into her office chair. 

“Holy cats,” Scotty said as he stood next to Pan and stirred sugar into his own cup. “Should we start a betting pool on which limbs will start flying out the windows first?”

They both jumped as they heard Faith slam her hands down on the table. They could just make out the Director saying something about it being “completely unacceptable,” but the rest was a blur of angry voices talking over each other.

“Then we back channel and scrub their database!” Faith stuck her finger out at Murdock. “Isn’t that why we have all of those brains on sticks out there? Let them pitch in and cover some ass for once.”

“And you really think it’s appropriate to put her at risk like that again?” Murdock shot back, shoulders tense and looking like she was ready to spring from the other side of the table where she stood. “If you actually cared one ounce for her or anyone else on this team then you would know why I refuse to let you take that chance.” Faith could see all of the whites of her eyes, and she knew she had pushed way too far, but she wasn’t stopping. “She is a two-time convict-”

Faith launched forward aggressively, “She’s scared, Murdock, and she needs a team to be part of, and you just screwed her chances of that. She’s also an outstanding data security expert who you couldn’t replace if you had to.” She stopped and collected herself. “If this is her call, then fine. But you can note my disagreement in your damn file. And don’t even think about putting anyone else in that car with me. I work alone from here out.” She grabbed the door, yanked it open, and stormed off, knocking Scotty’s shoulder as she passed him.

Pan reached out and caught his coffee just in time to save his clothes, but he could tell by the look on her face that it would be best not to demand an apology from Faith. The main door slammed behind her, and the office stayed quiet in her wake.

____________________

Drama opened the door to her apartment and pushed the wet nose sticking through the opening back so that she could move inside. She scratched his ears affectionately and continued to shove him out of the way as she turned on lights and dropped her backpack on the shoe organizer. She shrugged off her raincoat and hung it to dry. Summer in the pacific northwest sucked sometimes. She opened the fridge door and pulled out a can of beer, cracked the top, and leaned back against the counter to enjoy the first mouthful. Her mind drifted back over the course of the day, and she ran her hand through her cropped blonde hair, pulling slightly in the middle. The tugging sensation on her scalp was comforting. Her mind drifted to Faith. She rubbed her eyes and tipped the beer back into her mouth again. Yeah, well fuck her, and fuck this whole goddamn mess.

Her phone buzzed on the quartz countertop. It was Pan. She sighed and opened the text. ‘Doing okay? You left early.’

‘Fine,’ she answered.

‘Faith was looking for you.’

Shit. She put the phone down and leaned over to put her forehead onto the cool surface of the counter. The phone buzzed next to her cheek. She looked at it with one open eye. ‘I covered for you.’

‘Thanks,’ she typed with her left thumb. ‘I’ll bring you coffee tomorrow.’

‘Going to retro tomorrow with the gang. You in? 8AM.’

Drama bit her lower lip and read the text six times. Her pulse thrummed in her ears. The dog stood next to her and groaned a little. He was so tall that he set his head onto the counter next to where her palm pressed into it. She had put this off for over six months. They kept asking, kept trying despite her attempts to avoid them. They were persistent. She felt annoyed at it, but there was a small part of her that didn’t want them to stop asking. She picked up the can and drained the rest of the beer in one go. Her hand moved sideways and petted the fluffy white fur on the top of her dog’s head. She made a small clicking sound in the back of her throat and he trotted off to the door, waiting for his leash.

She walked the huge dog down three flights of stairs and outside, shutting the security door behind them. They made their way up 4th Avenue toward the nearest green space which also happened to be right underneath the Space Needle. Drama let the pup sniff a tree trunk and took a deep breath. She dug her phone out of her pocket and read Pan’s last text again and finally decided to respond. ‘Are we on for that hike this weekend?’

‘Only if you say yes to coffee,’ came the reply. Drama stalled and pulled the dog away, walking them into the park. ‘What happened with you and Faith?’ She stared at the message from Pan and frowned.

She felt like an idiot over the entire event, and knowing that the argument between Faith and the Director had been loud enough for the whole crew to hear had been enough to send her flying out the door. She wasn’t even sure she had the nerve to face them for actual work, let alone something as casual as coffee. Pan was really only trying to be a good friend. ‘I fucked up,’ she wrote back. ‘Not going back out again. I’ll be at the desk permanently.’

‘What?’ Pan replied. ‘You’ve been out there for weeks. We’ve got a solid stack of names and leads from all the work you’ve done. You can’t bail now. Did Phe cut you out?’

‘I resigned from surveillance.’

Pan didn’t reply for a while. The rain had stopped, so Drama pulled back her hood and breathed in the fresh air. It felt better. She felt better. Being out of the operation would be better for everyone, and it meant there wouldn’t be any more potential for her to screw it up. She knew this was the right choice, it was just… Faith. Her brain kept going back to the look of hurt and disappointment on Faith’s face. She didn’t know how to fix that, so she put her aside and rationalized that it never would have worked anyway.

Her phone buzzed in her back pocket. ‘Is it Faith?’ She stared at Pan’s text, not sure what she meant, not sure how to respond. It was, and she knew that was the real reason why she couldn’t get back into that SUV with her, couldn’t handle another night of laughing and joking, working quietly, staring at her so full of want and need that she thought her emotions would burst right through her chest and out into the open. Sometimes, late in the evenings, the two of them would tip their seats back a bit, listen to something easy on the radio for distraction, and spend the time just enjoying being there in the moment. Sometimes Faith would sing along to the music, and Drama would imagine that Faith was singing to her, just for her.

Saturday had been like that. The sky was cloudy, and the city lights reflected their glow back down onto the parked car. Faith had rolled down the windows a bit for some air. It was so warm, and Drama had laid back, resting her head in her outstretched arms, tilted sideways to watch Faith hum and follow along to the tunes she liked. 

“Everybody here is out of sight, they don't bark and they don't bite. They keep things loose, they keep 'em tight, everybody was dancing in the moonlight," Drama followed her mouth as the words came out, lost in how beautiful she was. She closed her eyes and imagined what it would feel like to slow dance with her, to be close enough to feel Faith’s skin against her own. She’d never wanted to dance with anyone before, but now she found herself thinking it might be such a good feeling. When she opened her eyes, Faith was grinning at her. “You can sleep if you’re tired,” she had said. Drama just shook her head no, but Faith’s words had been so soft, so inviting that she wished more than anything for the space between them to vanish so that she could curl up against the other woman. She settled on grinning back.

Drama kicked at the gravel where Moose had stopped to watch a group of birds flutter around by some low bushes. It was almost painful to think about those nights now, especially knowing she couldn’t go back, that there wouldn’t be more of them. She read Pan’s text again. ‘No, I just fucked up. I’m better inside.’ She hit send.

Pan answered, ‘That’s BS. You were happy out there with her. Did you tell her how you feel and something went wrong?’

Damn her for being perceptive, Drama growled. ‘No.’

‘Well you should.’

‘I can’t.’

‘Why not?’

Sometimes Drama felt like Pan was a sister she’d never had. That kid could really get under her skin. And why not? Well that was super easy. She couldn’t imagine it ever being okay to hit the person you had a major crush on, and she knew what her body had been about to do after that cop had driven off. Faith had been touching her, right up against her, and the violent convulsions in her body were like a tidal wave she couldn’t contain. They had only been lucky she’d been able to aim her fist at the car door instead. How the hell do you explain something like that to a girl like Faith? She could have anybody she wanted. She was smart and sexy and funny and sweet, and Drama knew right down to her core that no girl with that many options in life would pick her, especially if she knew what was in her.

‘I don’t know how to do relationships.’

‘They’re not so hard if you just give them a try,’ typed Pan.

‘You have so much experience.’ Drama had to laugh at the girl. She didn’t give up easily.

‘1 > 0.’ Pan was clearly enjoying this.

____________________

August 2011

Drama typed quickly on her keyboard, firing off a series of emails to the team to document their current status with the surveillance data. She glanced up at the clock and chewed her lip again. She thought about trying to finish the most important things in the next ten minutes, maybe get out of the building, be anywhere but there, but she didn’t move fast enough. The door opened and Faith strolled in, and everything in Drama’s mind that she had worked up about that moment took a hard left and swerved rapidly out of control. 

Faith sat at her side of the desk and looked over. She smiled. Drama caught her eye for just a split second, and everything came pouring back in. She looked incredible. Drama could smell the jasmine shampoo Faith used when she tossed her hair back. Her lipstick was a shade lighter today, and she looked like everything sweet and delicious about summer. Drama wanted to check the thermostat in the office to make sure it was working right, but she couldn’t risk drawing attention. Her eyes flicked back to her screen and hid there, typing steadily. “Well good morning to you, too,” came Faith’s voice. 

Drama got up abruptly and dashed out to the kitchenette for a cup of coffee or tea or water or whatever her fumbling hands could figure out. This was never going to work. She didn’t know how to be around Faith anymore, especially with how intimate things had felt for all those nights in the car together. It had been another two months of surveillance without her, and now here they were again, in the same small space, and Drama felt like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the building. She took a long sip of water and leaned back against the counter.

Scotty wandered in and said hello. She glared back. “Hey,” he started hesitantly, “do you know anything about installing a bypass relay switch in an old car?” She frowned and looked sideways at him. “Pan said you were good at stuff like that and that you had a car you’d done some restoration work on…”

She shrugged in an irritated way and picked up the dry erase marker for the board that was stuck to the front of the fridge door. ‘What kind of car?’

“Oh,” Scotty smiled and got excited. “It’s a Honda. I was hoping to….” 

He stopped talking and stared as Drama wiped down the board and started to draw. The board filled up with an elaborate schematic of wire paths and switch locations. She circled three points and wrote a note at the bottom. ‘Don’t forget to ground these.’ She dropped the marker and walked off, leaving him in silence.

But Faith was still in the office when she got back, only now she had taken off her shirt and was just down to a very nicely fitting tank. Drama avoided looking at her at all and leaned in closer to her monitors. “It’s supposed to be nice out today,” Drama heard her say. “You wanna get lunch?”

Drama leaned back and to the side just enough for Faith to see her shrug slightly, point at her computer, clearly saying she was busy and needed to get work done.

Twenty minutes later, Faith rolled her chair around the side of the desk and right next to the blonde. She stared warmly at Drama and leaned back in such a way that it was impossible to ignore how her top hugged every single curve. Drama’s eyes drifted over her neck, up to the perfect edge of her lips, upturned in a suggestive smile. “Do you have the original file on that Toyota with the screwed up registration? I might have a lead on that one.” Drama fumbled in the drawer on the other side of her desk until she found the file. Faith took it from her hand slowly, not moving fast at all to slide back to her side of the office. 

She wanted to sigh in relief once things were quiet again, but she knew better. The office wasn’t cramped, but it was definitely small enough for the little things not to go undetected. 

“You wanna hit the gym downstairs after work?” Faith asked so casually after another painful hour of silence. Drama had shaken her head, no, but Faith pressed on. She sat up and leaned closer, giving Drama an enhanced view of everything the tank was hiding. “Tomorrow morning then.” She had left right after that, giving Drama no chance to object.

Sure enough, she was in the gym the following morning before Drama had even arrived. She was sure the other woman knew she didn’t really want anyone around her right now, but Faith didn’t act like she gave a crap. She tried to talk to her over and over, got in the way when Drama was sorting the bumper plates, and ultimately stopped her completely from leaving by blocking the door and shoving herself right up in the blonde’s face. “You can’t avoid this forever,” Faith had looked at her with those sultry eyes, and then she reached out to touch her left elbow. Drama’s right arm had swung high and fast before either of them realized what happened, and Faith was sitting on the floor holding her cheek. Her eyes burned, and she looked like she would strike back, but then she shrugged it off and simply said, “Damn, Hayes. You really know how to turn a girl on.” 

Drama ran from the gym, ducked through the locker room, and kept running until she was out of the building. She didn’t stop. Running on the concrete sidewalk in downtown was murder on her knees, and she hated how it felt, but she kept up the pace, launching herself up the steep streets leading to the top of First Hill. She played out the scene that had happened over and over, cursing and swearing in her head. She had known this would happen, that there was too much instability in her for this to be prevented if Faith kept pushing, and damn her! Damn her for always finding that weakness and pursuing it, hunting it down and striking with such precision that it didn’t leave Drama room to breathe. She finally slowed down halfway out Madison Street, knowing it would take her at least ten minutes of hard running to get back to the office with enough time to shower and change before she needed to be at her desk.

She was greeted by Pan in the hallway past the elevator. “Holy shit, did you see Faith’s eye?” the girl started. Drama blanched and felt her hands go cold. “She told Petra she got in another bar fight. She’s like totally volatile or something,” Pan shook her head in awe. “I would kill to be that hot.”

Drama caught glimpses of her bruised face in the shared office a few minutes later. She ducked away any time Faith tried to make eye contact. She didn’t make it far before she felt the heat of Faith’s body standing behind her with crossed arms. “I feel like coffee. Do you feel like coffee?” she said through gritted teeth. “Let’s go get some coffee.” She strode out of the office without looking back. Drama knew better than to sit for more than a second before she followed. 

It was a deathly quiet walk down to Retro from the office building. Drama never could have imagined that two blocks could take so long to traverse. They walked into the coffee house. Drama ordered for them with her usual sticky note to the barista who knew her, then collected the drinks and sat down carefully across from Faith at the table in the corner. There was no one nearby. It was way too late in the morning for the big crowds.

Faith pulled out a notepad and pen and pushed them across the wooden table. “I could be really pissed off, you know,” she started. Drama tried not to stare at the blooming purple mark under her left eye. “Not gonna lie, that hurt like a motherfucker.”

Drama curled in on herself in guilt. She scribbled on the pad, ‘I’m really sorry.’

“I’m not here for you to apologize,” Faith held up a hand to stop her. “I could see it before you ran off. I know you didn’t really do it on purpose… I pushed way too hard, and you tried to warn me.” Faith moved sideways slightly, pulling the note Drama had written her from before out of her back pocket, placing it on the café table between them. She pointed at it and locked her eyes onto Drama, willing her to look up. She did. “It would be really nice if you would just explain what the hell this is all about. I think you sort of owe me that much.”

Drama stared back at her, not sure how or where to begin. She had never been good at talking to anyone, and then suddenly things were so easy with Faith, and they got along so well, and here they were after she royally screwed that up, and no words even came to her mind. She held the pen in her hands and felt useless. 

“Fine,” Faith put her head into her hands for a moment, gathering herself. “I’m gonna take a stab at this, and you just point me in the right direction if I head way out to left field. You’ve said enough about your past that I can gather things weren’t ideal at home.” She watched Drama’s whole body flinch. “And you clearly spent a bunch of time in detention when you probably should have been playing video games and skipping school like a regular kid. So somebody really terrible did something really shitty to you, and now you can’t stand to have anyone close, so you just start swinging.” She stopped and tried to be a bit softer when she said, “Am I close?”

But she could tell by Drama’s demeanor that she had hit the nail directly on the head, and now Faith was wondering if even saying it out loud had been too pushy. She felt slightly grateful for the table between them. Drama looked down at her hands in her lap and nodded just once. She picked up the pen again and wrote on the notepad, ‘Father.’ Faith breathed slowly through her nose. Just because she had been able to figure it out didn’t make it any less painful to have to watch. ‘I stopped talking,’ Drama wrote below the other line. ‘He sent me to JD.’

“You used to talk?” Faith caught herself saying before she could stop.

Drama looked at her with pure guilt in her face. She felt like this was worse than punching Faith in the face. Admitting she had talked when she was a kid felt like she was cheating her out of something she deserved, and it bit into her, shaking pain into every part of her body. ‘If you touch me, I can’t stop myself from hitting. I don’t want to hurt you. You should stay away.’ 

But the look in her eyes said anything but stay away, and Faith knew how to read that. “What if I don’t want to?” She extended her hand out into the middle of the table. “Is it like a hard rule? Like I can’t touch you no matter what?”

Drama scrunched her face up in pure fear and drew herself back from the table. She had said more than once to stay back, that she didn’t want to hurt Faith, and here was this woman pushing back, still sitting there, asking for more details. She shook her head no. No, you can’t touch me. No, you can’t risk this. No, you don’t understand. Drama started signing to her wildly, knowing Faith couldn’t understand her. But she let it out anyway. ‘This is crazy. It’s stupid. I just punched you, you have a black eye because of me, and you still don’t get it. I’m dangerous. I’m just going to hit you again!’

“Sure, I get all that,” Faith bluffed, but Drama felt like maybe she did, in some way, understand. “So I won’t touch you. Okay?” Her hand was still there, still resting on the table. “Is there a rule that you can’t touch me though?”

Drama sat there breathing for what felt like hours. Her chest moved up and down slowly, her head spun. Faith’s hand didn’t move. It just stayed there patiently. She thought a hundred times about how to reach out, how to touch her, how to bridge that gap, but her body wouldn’t move.

“Hayes,” Faith woke her up. “Just breathe.” 

She looked into Faith’s eyes, past the bruising, straight into the depth of brown, of calm and quiet and steady. She breathed in and out following Faith’s lead without realizing it. In and out again. Her shoulders relaxed, her body sat back in the chair more easily, and the tension in her neck released. 

“That’s better.” Faith watched her from across the table, still reaching out, still waiting. 

Drama felt her hand lift, saw it pass the edge of the table, and it moved close to Faith’s hand, resting right next to hers. She didn’t really know the rules, and she was the one who had made them. But this wasn’t something she had tested. She let her fingers drift sideways just the smallest amount, and felt them come up against Faith’s little finger. They sat that way for a long time.


	8. Chapter 8

September 2011

“I’d like your impression on this,” Murdock sat behind her long, empty desk opposite Drama, tossing the large file folder toward her. Drama dragged it closer tentatively. “Your post-operation report was excellent. I think you pointed out our weaknesses quite clearly.” She could hear the irritation in the Director’s voice. Her report had been incredibly specific, and Drama knew before she submitted it to her boss that it could land her out of a job if she wasn’t very, very lucky. Thankfully, Murdock was more interested in improving how they worked than in saving face. Pride was not going to be her downfall.

Drama flipped through the pages in the file folder, reading snips of news articles, internal memos from federal agencies, and detailed profile analyses. The cases in the file were from a few years back. Every one of them had resulted in arrests and sentencing, but none of them had contained sufficient evidence for the government groups most interested in them to pursue those cases until it was dropped on their doorstep by mysterious forces. Murdock wasn’t asking about the cases in the report files, she was looking a level deeper. She was looking for the person who had made those arrests possible. She was looking for the builder that every programmer, every data geek knew about, whispered about, revered.

“I’ve been able to identify what I believe to be at least three individuals directly responsible for the data operations behind these surface level cases. All are still currently outstanding and are on every available watchlist that the government maintains, but they’re only whispers. No one has any real leads. These people are truly ghosts.” Murdock rarely smiled. But this afternoon, for the first time Drama could recall in over a year, there was a slight upturn at the edge of the woman’s mouth. “However, I believe we have a link that could provide some… advantage.” She steepled her fingers in front of her lips. “Take a look at the last item.”

Drama flipped to the back of the folder. It was an arrest record. The temperature in the room was suddenly uncomfortably warm, and she wanted more than anything to look away or to find a way to squirm without Murdock seeing her visceral reaction. The arrest record was for Faith Lehane, from 2008. It placed her directly in the Borchert Trafficking Ring as an accessory. This wasn’t really news to Drama. She had been over every inch of Faith’s file before she was hired, and she knew Murdock had been interested in the woman for more reasons than her very obvious qualifications for the job. It wasn’t apparent at the time, and Drama felt like there was still more that she was missing, something personal. The problem was, there was no relation between Faith and these cases from anywhere that Drama could see it. It seemed as though Murdock was implying that Faith knew them, knew the ones behind this work, that she was connected to them. It was a sobering implication.

“I’m handing this to you, Miss Hayes,” the Director steepled her fingers in front of her chin, “because you have the skill and the discretion needed.” She looked down for just a moment, hesitating, and Drama felt that there was so much more to this that no one would ever divulge. “Faith trusts you. You work well together. I believe she may hold the key to finding the builder behind these cases.” Murdock sat back in her chair, firming her gaze at the girl in her office. “But I’m afraid this may be a sensitive… topic for her.” 

Drama focused on her breathing, on keeping everything in her body still and calm. It was a terrible fight to wage against herself, one she wasn’t sure she could win. She should push the file back to Murdock, refuse to do the work, ask for a different assignment. Maybe quit the job entirely. This wasn’t for her. This would go against everything she wanted and needed, and it would push Faith further away from her if she really was connected to this.

“The other two also remain at large, but I’ve no interest in them for the time being.” Murdock tapped her long fingers on the desk. “I only wish for you to locate the builder.” Drama noticed suddenly that the Director wouldn’t meet her eyes. She felt like something in the air around her was changing. “Many people have tried to find this person over the years, but they haven’t ever left a trail that could be followed. They’re a pioneer of sorts. Their work is…” Ophelia searched for the right word.

Drama beat her to it. She had the sharpie in her hand and wrote on the notepad in her lap, ‘Legendary.’ They exchanged a very meaningful look. ‘I know who this is.’ Drama felt a growing sense of dread in her stomach.

“I had hoped, of course, that you would.” She looked relieved, despite the expression on Drama’s face. “They would have a lot to offer us.”

‘They could tear us apart,’ Drama wrote.

“True,” Murdock pursed her lips. “You have everything I have now.” Her eyelashes fluttered, and Drama knew she was lying, but she wasn’t about to question her. “I’d like this to be your top priority. Please report to me directly on your progress. No emails.” Drama nodded.

____________________

December 2011

The office was dark all around. A few desk lights had been left on, but no one else was on the floor. Faith sat back in her chair and rubbed her eyes. She had been staring at the same line for an hour without reading it. An instant message popped up on her screen.

D – It’s late. You should go home.

Faith leaned to the side and stared at Drama, whose eyes stayed locked on her own screen, on whatever she had been absorbed in for weeks now. This has become the new routine. Faith would come in later in the morning, Drama would already be there. They would work quietly for the entire day. Sometimes Faith would have to leave for meetings or security briefings, but Drama wasn’t involved in any active cases at the moment. She stayed behind, always there when Faith returned. 

F – But you’ve been chatting my ear off all day, and it’s been hard to concentrate.

She heard Drama snicker briefly, and she leaned back over to see if she could get a grin. Green eyes popped around the edge of the monitor. She blinked, long blonde eyelashes working their magic on her, and then she vanished again. 

Faith bit her bottom lip and looked around the workroom outside of their office. Everything was quiet and still. She pushed away from the desk and rolled to the side, leaning back casually, almost like she was taking a break for a moment. It was all so rehearsed and obvious, but they both enjoyed that part of it. It felt like they were getting away with something really secret, something that should be off limits, and Faith’s skin thrilled with the potential. She knew better than to look at Drama. She ran her hands through her hair, shook out the long ends, hoping and praying that it still got Drama’s attention the way she needed it to. Then she rested her back against the edge of the desk and laid her right hand out along the flat surface, palm down, like she was stretching.

It took a long moment, but Drama looked away from her screens, checked through the glass of the office door, and enjoyed the tension of just breathing in the scent of Faith so close to her. She stretched her shoulders, moved her chair sideways a few inches, and reached out with her right hand across the desk. Part of her wished for a smaller work surface, something that would bring them closer more often, but she knew that was the wrong direction to go in during regular business hours. And this was nice. There was never any pressure. Some nights it didn’t happen. They would have to go, or someone else would be in the office later than usual, and they knew better than to be so conspicuous. 

But tonight Drama knew they had time, so she let her fingers drift slightly to the side until she could feel the skin of Faith’s hand, just there, waiting for her. The electricity of their touch made the wait so worthwhile. They sat there for so long that Drama lost track of time. Her eyes drifted from where their fingers moved slowly against each other up to Faith’s face. She was still looking out into the workroom, cool and detached, doing her best not to push, not to ask for more.

A door down the hallway slammed shut, and they both jumped from their places, rushing back behind their work stations. After a few minutes, when no one had come their direction, they both breathed a sigh of relief. But the magic of the moment had slipped away. 

F – You’ve been putting in really long hours.

Drama sank down in her chair, feeling like she had been busted a second time in as many minutes. The door slamming had been enough. She had been waiting for the right moment to talk to Faith, avoiding it for weeks, always unable to find the timing that she thought was best. 

D – Special project. 

“Like so special you can’t tell me?” Faith’s voice was low and quiet.

Drama knew she would have to go back and scrub the servers of this chat session before she left for the night. Her coworkers were way too good not to find something like this if she didn’t erase her tracks. 

D – I need information from you.

F – You can find everything you need. You’re smart.

But she wasn’t smart enough for this. And she had tried. She had pulled out all the stops for weeks, and nothing was turning up. She needed a nudge in the right direction, some sort of information to latch onto. So she went with the one thing she had been able to work with, and it was only the tiniest thread of a lead imaginable. The arrest record for Faith had some serious gaps in information, largely pertaining to her own determination not to say anything to the arresting officers or the investigators who had questioned her later. But it was clear that she hadn’t been a member of the trafficking ring. Drama took a deep breath and typed what she suspected but didn’t really know.

D – I don’t have access to the information connecting you and Petra.

There. She had finally said it. Drama had danced around this topic for ages, knowing it was going to make Faith angry or hurt or something she didn’t want to see. Things had been settled and quiet since the debacle with the surveillance op gone wrong, and even after giving Faith a black eye, she was still here, still working on whatever it was that they were. Murdock had asked her to risk all of that by assigning her to find this builder. And there was no way around it now. She needed Faith’s help. 

But the far side of the room had gone silent, and she knew that Faith didn’t want this conversation any more than she did. She heard the sound of Faith standing up, moving to collect her things. Drama got up and tried to approach her, but the physical distance between them was still a force to contend with. She looked sadly at Faith, feeling like there wasn’t anything in the world that she regretted more than being stuck in this moment and knowing that it was her own creation. 

Faith turned and looked at her. “I don’t think you know what you’re asking for.”

Drama let her eyes fall to the floor. She did know.

“Did Phe put you up to this?”

She nodded. She pulled the notepad from the desk over and wrote, ‘I know you worked with others on the job that lead to your arrest. I have to find the builder.’

Faith crossed her arms and leaned back against the window frame behind her. “I don’t know any builders,” she said angrily. Her tone was something Drama had never heard, and it made it painful to breathe. This wasn’t the person she had come to know, who she had spent so many nights with. This was someone with sharp edges. 

‘Nerd,’ she wrote.

The brunette leaned her head all the way back. “Fuck me. I swear to fucking god, why is this shit always about her?”

Well, at least Drama knew she was on the right track. ‘M won’t let this go.’

“So now you, of all people,” Faith spat, “you want me to roll on somebody? You need it that badly?”

She wanted to be angry, too, but she just couldn’t seem to summon the right mix of bitterness or sadness that it required, and she stood there feeling hollow. This wasn’t fair. This wasn’t what she wanted. ‘She’s invisible.’ 

“Did you ever think maybe there’s a reason for that?!” Faith charged at her, running right up into Drama’s face, knowing what could happen. But she didn’t care. She pressed into the other woman recklessly, taking all of the space in front of her with the most aggressive posture she could summon. 

Drama’s left hand swung out at a ridiculous speed and caught the edge of Faith’s leather jacket, holding it in a shaking fist right at the front of Faith’s chest. They stood frozen in fear and anger and shame, breathing the same air, so close to each other that they could feel the heat of their skin combining. Faith’s eyes twisted with so much pain and hurt that Drama almost thought it was caused by her own hand, but she realized that it was internal, that she had torn open a wound that Faith was never going to let heal or let go. The floor beneath them felt unsteady, and Drama loosened her grip just enough for Faith to pull herself away with a rough jerk. She reached behind where she had been standing, shouldered her bag, and stormed out past Drama, who was still heaving with the intensity of their contact, of having come so close to hurting her when nothing could have saved them from that damage. Faith walked briskly down the hallway toward the flight of stairs that would give her some breathing room, so much better than an elevator down thirty-nine flights of a building she suddenly felt smothered in. Just before she opened the door she heard an incredibly piercing crack from the office she had just left. She stopped and turned, but she was too far away to see anything.

____________________

June 2012

Faith walked into the office with a blank expression. The door closed behind her. It was still taped and covered from the night six months earlier when Drama had broken it, along with one of the bones in her wrist. Sometimes she wondered if Murdock was stalling on repairing the door intentionally. Nothing had changed. Well, she thought with a furrowed brow, some things had changed. Drama had elected to work remotely for a while. Faith assumed it was to ensure that they both had the time they needed to cool off, to figure things out. But she knew better. Something between them was just as broken as the door, and neither of them was rushing to fix it. She sat down with a forced exhale, wishing her job was more involving and distracting right now, but things were slow and quiet, which felt like torture. It gave her nothing but time to think about the girl she missed more than she had expected to. She laughed at herself in an insulting way. Fucking stupid, she reminded herself, to get caught up in something with a person who might actually be more damaged than she was. If that was even possible. It was doubtful. 

She glanced through the glass window at Petra, who sat at her desk looking morose. It was the same all around. Scotty tried his best to keep things light in the office, but they were all dragged down by the feeling that something really crucial had changed, even if none of them could truly understand what it was. Small work groups are like that. When one aspect changes, everyone feels the ripple it sends out, and Faith knew she was guilty or responsible, and it made her that much more bitter and distant. 

And there was so much to be bitter about. Faith still couldn’t fathom how she had let her past drive a wedge between her and the one person she wanted and needed, and she threw as much of that anger at Murdock as she could get away with. This was truly her fault. Drama couldn’t possibly have known how much of a setup this had been. Faith had spent so much time suppressing all thoughts of Rosenberg that to have her dredged back up now felt like a sucker punch to the gut. She took a deep breath, again, to try to get it all out of her head, but there was nothing else to focus on anymore. So she had been forced to look at things with a cool and level perspective. Whiskey and bourbon had done their part to help, too. 

She knew this was inevitable, that she was eventually going to have to give Drama something to work with. Faith knew Ophelia well enough from their own entangled past to have zero hope of her giving up on finding Rosenberg. The question no one seemed to be asking was whether Rosenberg wanted to be found. Faith knew the answer without even knowing what had happened after her own arrest four years earlier. It was enough that the police never did find Rosenberg or the others, and that none of them had bothered to vouch for Faith once she was in custody. Giles’ name and face couldn’t even pop up in her mind without her wanting to vomit up everything she had eaten in the last week, which wasn’t much more than the aforementioned alcohol. Their collective abandonment of her spoke volumes. So she knew without hesitation that Drama would never find anything on a single one of them without a lead; a name, an address, something solid, all of which she had, none of which she had ever used. And she could have. Many times over. But something in her resisted that urge, even when she had been at her lowest point, well before Murdock had met her in the visitor’s lounge of the federal prison she had spent two years in. 

And Murdock should have known this. She probably did. Which might also mean that she suspected Drama and Faith might have more than a coworking relationship. That thought darkened Faith’s mind on the worst days, and she fumed silently in the office, pretending to be busy, praying that the Director would have something to say to her so that she would have a reason to snap at her and blow off the building pressure. Using Drama to get to Faith for information was low. And it had worked. After six months of being alone, she was ready to break, ready to give Drama exactly what she needed. Because after all, she was human, and she had needs, too. If Rosenberg hadn’t thought of that along the way, then fuck her.

Faith wasn’t fuming quite so badly today, but she was still on the edge of wanting to walk out. If Murdock wasn’t holding the remainder of her sentence over her, then she might have. But that would also mean giving up on Andromeda, and Faith couldn’t bring herself to leave if there was a chance. She inhaled slowly, consciously letting go of the scowl in her forehead, wishing desperately for a sign that she was making the right choice.

The door opened behind her before she had even let her breath go. Faith looked around and saw a face that made her heart lift, and she choked to stuff her reaction out of sight, away from her face and her eyes, but she knew it was too late. Because Drama was looking at her in the same way. Her hair was shorter, cut even with the bottom of her ears, more like it had been when they’d first met. She could see the back where it had been shaved a little shorter along the line of her neck, the part Faith had always glanced at in the car on those summer nights and wondered about, had always wanted to tangle her fingers in, and Jesus Christ, just like that it was all right there and in her face.

But then something happened that she hadn’t expected. Drama’s eyebrows lifted, and she smiled, and the tiniest little huff escaped from her lips, like a little laugh of joy at seeing Faith, which is exactly what it was. She shrugged at herself and blinked slowly

Faith did the same. “Hey,” she said without thinking about it too hard. I’ve missed you. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you. Nothing is the same without you. She wasn’t sure if the word hey could really capture that, but maybe Drama could read her better than she knew. 

Her eyes said something similar back. It was like she couldn’t hold back the flood of need, so she walked closer and sat at the edge of the window, right where the little metal ledge stuck out a few inches. It was cold and painful and awkward, and she didn’t notice that at all. She tried to tuck her hair behind her ear, but it wouldn’t stay. Her eyes didn’t leave Faith’s face. 

A sharp rap on the glass of their office brought their attention back, and they looked out to see Pan and Petra dancing on the other side. Faith felt a flush of heat hit her neck, and she ducked away, moving back to her computer like nothing had happened. 

The girls kept Drama occupied for most of the day, regaling her with details of everything she had missed in the office, even though they had been in constant IM and email contact with her the whole time she had been away. But Drama didn’t appear to mind. She smiled and listened, and she let them drag her around endlessly, until she finally got them to let her go back to her desk in the late afternoon. 

She disappeared for a while, and Faith tried not to be too obvious looking for her. She walked around the kitchenette looking for something to snack on to make her wandering look more intentional, but she really only wanted to find the blonde, to have a moment to sit with her, and she felt like kicking herself for being jealous of the others for taking up all of Drama’s time. Was she already gone for the day?

Faith slowly walked back toward the office, but she saw movement inside. When she popped in the door, Drama was there waiting, setting out a couple of plastic spoons on the desk surface. There was a carton of ice cream out. Drama lifted off the lid and scraped the inside with her own spoon, pointing at the chair for Faith to sit, which she did. 

“I thought maybe you left already. You’re popular today.” Faith picked up the carton. It was Phish Food. Drama knew that was her favorite. She dug through the top layer and scooped out as many little fudge fishes as she could in a single spoonful. “You either missed me or you want something,” she tried to smile. Drama’s face fell at her words. “No, I-” Faith started to say. She sighed and set the ice cream down. “You ever have those moments when you mean to say something cool or funny and instead you end up having all the wrong things fall out of your mouth?”

Drama slowly shook her head no, but she grinned back at Faith. She grabbed the carton and dipped her spoon in, looking for caramel. The marshmallow part was strangely unappealing, so she scooped around it. She handed the carton back, kept the spoon in her mouth, and picked up the pen and paper that were still on the desk waiting for her after all this time. Faith watched her every movement, noticing that her arms were a little bit tan, that something about her was a bit sharper, like she had lost weight or changed how she was toning her muscles. ‘I missed you a little,’ she wrote.

“How’s the wrist?”

‘Had to take some time off from weights,’ she wrote back. ‘It’s better now.’

Faith wasn’t sure what to say. It was clear that there was still something between them, but there was a new distance that left her feeling bewildered. “Are you really back then?”

Drama looked away, out the windows overlooking Fourth Avenue below them. She shrugged. So there it was. Faith was right. Things had changed. Drama looked sideways at the cracked glass of the door. She hadn’t realize before she punched it that it was double strength security glass. It wouldn’t have gone well with anything less sturdy, but it had been utterly unforgiving, and her wrist had borne the entire force of her body bearing down on the solid glass. The memory of their argument came rushing back at her full force. She set her spoon down on the desk. 

“It wasn’t your fault, and I’m not mad at you,” Faith stared into the ice cream. It didn’t feel as rewarding if Drama didn’t want to share it with her. “Not anymore anyway.”

Drama nodded without looking at her. She felt a knot in her chest that wouldn’t untie itself. ‘You don’t have to give up anything,’ she wrote after another minute. Faith read it, but she didn’t understand, so Drama took the pad back and added to it, ‘I found her without you.’

Faith felt the shock roll over her like ice down her back. Nothing in her had braced in time to see that on the paper, and she realized she was doubled over and breathing hard. Drama was there beside her, clearly alarmed at her reaction, but she knew better than to reach out or try to touch her. “No, I’m good. I’m okay,” Faith said between hard breaths. “I just didn’t… How did you… I don’t understand how you could-” she put the palm of her hand onto the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. She had bottled up so much pain and resentment over everything having to do with Rosenberg, but she had also been protecting her, and now that effort was wasted. It was gone and undone, and she was so, so grateful she had been sitting down. “You don’t know what she is,” she was saying, more to herself. “You don’t know what she’s capable of. We can’t do this. It’s wrong. It’s so wrong.” She was shaking her head, and the room was spinning. Faith had been ready to give her up, and she had known this was what would be on the other side of that decision, but the reality of it didn’t square with the anger and pain she had been holding onto.

Drama was kneeling on the floor, staring up into Faith’s face, terrified at what was happening. This didn’t make any sense. She had thought Faith would be happy, that her not giving Drama the information would be better. The truth was that Rosenberg had been sloppy, and Drama had just been smart enough to find that one thing to connect her work from then to her new life now. There hadn’t been anything else, and no one would ever be able to accuse Faith of betraying anyone. But now, looking into her face distorted with anguish, Drama knew that something far worse was wrapped up in all of this, that she had done something unforgivable.

“What the hell did you do to her?” came a sudden and shocked voice from the doorway. Drama looked up with wide eyes at Petra, who was rushing over, gathering Faith up in her slim arms, and whispering to her with comfort. She shot an angry look back at Drama, who sat back on the floor. “What did you do?!” Petra screamed. Something in her had come undone with the sobs escaping Faith’s throat, and the two of them clutched at each other in a way that Drama couldn’t understand. She stumbled to her feet and ran out of the office.

“Shit, no, that’s not-” Faith choked on her own words. She pulled at Petra with all of her strength, as if she could hold her and run after Drama at the same time, but Petra was there talking, saying something to soothe her. “No, it wasn’t…” she tried again. Petra told her to breathe so that she could talk. Faith nodded and slowed herself down until the room held still again. They were sitting on the floor, and she didn’t know when that had happened. 

“What did she say to you?” Petra pleaded with her. 

“She didn’t mean to,” Faith tried to defend her. She wiped at the tears on her face, sickened by her reaction, and she looked around in a panic to see if anyone else had seen her outburst. When she didn’t see the others, she looked back at the door where Drama had fled. “I just wasn’t ready. I mean I was, and then she beat me to it, and then I wasn’t, and now it’s all too late.”

“Well of course,” Petra glared at her. “It all makes perfect sense now.”

“Fuck you, you little punk,” Faith snapped at her.

Petra sat back, unperturbed. “That sounds a little more like you. Listen,” she softened and looked at Faith with sympathy, “I know you like her, and I’m sure it hasn’t been easy with her gone, but that’s no reason to let her treat you like-”

Faith raised a hand, “Stop.” Petra closed her mouth. “You’re not even close.” Her eyes were warning Petra, telling her to let this go. “I’m better now. Everything just hit me all at once, and I lost it a little. It had nothing to do with her.” The smaller girl sighed heavily. Her eye liner had gotten smudged from hugging her friend so close, and Faith reached out to rub it away from where it had left a mark too far below her eye. “Are you in a black phase right now or something? You never wear any color anymore.”

She shrugged. “Summertime. Can’t be too flashy.”

Faith laughed at her and launched into a coughing fit from all the crying she had gone through. “I think you got glitter all over my favorite shirt.” She tried to dust off the sparkles. 

“Yeah, I’ll just let you sob your heart out all over the floor alone next time,” Petra rolled her eyes. “So if it’s not about Drama then what’s going on? Cuz you’ve been dragging your sorry ass all over this office, moping for months, then she comes back and you light up like a Katy Perry music video.”

“Harsh,” Faith frowned at her.

“True,” Petra snapped back. “And fucking spot on for how you look at her. Until, apparently,” she rolled her eyes again, “she does absolutely nothing at all and you dissolve into a complete wrecking ball mess like-”

“I swear to god, if you call me Miley Cyrus, I will end you right here,” Faith growled.

“You have a better analogy for me?” Petra almost stuck her tongue out. Almost.

Faith ran her hands roughly through her hair, pulling it out of her face. She leaned against the side of the desk at her back. “You know how I would never tell anyone about where we met? Back when I found you?” Petra’s mouth snapped shut. She looked down at the floor. “Yeah, well…” Faith sighed, “some of my own past is about to catch up with me. You’re not the only one I’ve been protecting.”

“I always knew it wasn’t just you,” Petra talked to the floor.

“I couldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for her,” Faith tried to explain. “You might not be here right now either.”

“Who is she?”

Faith let her head fall against the side of the desk. “Someone we’re both better off not knowing.”


	9. Chapter 9

July 2012

Pan squinted at her screen. It was too early to be working, but she had plans with Drama that afternoon, and she knew better than to start later and feel like she had no time all day long. Time management wasn’t her superpower anyway. More like kryptonite. Mornings in the office were nicer anyway. Everybody else liked coming in later, so Pan could have the quiet to herself. She clicked on the final window and sat back to let her interface run, folding her arms over her chest. Sunrise peeked through the windows. She checked the time on her phone and decided she could take a break to make some tea. She turned on the lights in the kitchenette, poured fresh water into the kettle, and set it to heat up. When she wandered back to her workstation, it occurred to her that she could probably snoop around for a bit without anyone else noticing, especially now that Drama was back in the office. Her working from home had meant that both of them were online early, and there was never any way to get past that girl’s eyes. 

She wasn’t trying to misbehave, and there wasn’t anything malicious about her, she was just curious, and she liked seeing things that were off limits. She reasoned that she was just keeping her skills sharp, since this was clearly something Phe had hired her for. She took one last look around the dark office space and settled in closer to the screen. “Restricted files,” she mumbled to herself. “Boring stuff. Hmm, meeting notes. Nothing interesting there.” She clicked through Ophelia’s recent files, finding nothing interesting at all. But the save dates and timestamps on Drama’s project suddenly caught her eye, and she let her mouse hover over them. “No way. She’s gonna know if I access that.” She leaned back and stared at the files, thinking. 

The kettle in the room nearby clicked off. Pan got up and poured herself a mug of black tea, then sat back down and drummed her fingers on her desk. “Backdoor file indexing then,” she said brightly to herself. “Nothing wrong with glancing at an index. Totally harmless.” She cruised through the lines of information and copied their contents out into a new file location, opening several items at once to read through. This was much better. She leaned in closer. Holy shit, Drama had been doing some seriously intense research across a host of external databases for months, but none of it lined up with any of their active cases. The final file looked different than the rest. She opened it, and her eyes got huge. It was just a crapload of programmer junk code. But to her it wasn’t junk at all. She knew this file. She had memorized it. She had been using this code format, had learned from it and adapted it. And this was the kind of thing that even the most innovative programmers had trouble following. Pan wasn’t as good as some of the others on the team, but she had done way more studying of older programmer work. History is the best teacher. And she was staring at the work of a genius. She closed the file, leaned back, and sipped at her tea.

“Morning,” Pan jumped at the sound of Petra’s voice right behind her. “What are you up to so early?” Petra’s hair was down for once, all tight curls. Pan had to breathe slowly to steady herself. Petra looked amazing. She always did. 

“Nothing, just-” Pan tried to defend herself, but then she realized she might have an opportunity in front of her. “Do you…” she looked around, then back at Petra conspiratorially, “do you know what Drama’s been working on?”

Petra blanched. She looked away very suddenly, trying to hide her reaction. “Not so much. Hey, do you wanna go get coffee?”

“Holy shit,” Pan stood up and grabbed her friend’s arm, pulling her back to face her. “You do know. Did she tell you?” she asked in a bit of a huff. “Because I’m her best friend, and she didn’t say a word to me.”

“No,” Petra shook her head, but then she realized that she was admitting she still knew something. She bit her lip in frustration. “You can’t say anything about this,” she begged. “Please?”

They both sat down close to each other. “You’re the only one I’m talking to,” Pan reassured her. “I just can’t believe she’s looking for…. Do you even know how many people have looked for him over the years? And no one has ever figured out who he is. He’s like… like the Banksy of data. He’s epic.” Her eyes were wide with reverence. 

“Wait,” Petra scrunched up her nose, “what?”

“No,” Pan narrowed her eyes at her friend, “No, wait what you,” she pointed at her. “I know what I’m talking about, so what are you talking about?” When Petra wouldn’t answer, Pan pressed on. “I know Drama has been looking for someone, someone very specific. So what do you know?”

Petra could see that Pan wasn’t letting this go anytime soon. She sighed and dropped her eyes. “I know that if you go digging into this, you might find some things that could hurt a lot of people.” She looked back up at her friend and hoped she could understand what she was saying. 

“How would anyone get hurt?” Pan scrunched up her nose.

“The cases this person worked on… at least one of those?” she glanced up. “You’ll find… things I’d really rather not have found. Things about me.”

Pan looked at her computer, then back at Petra, who looked so vulnerable and scared that she barely recognized her. The two girls had become friends early on, both being younger than the others, both small, both overlooked by the stronger voices in the crowd. And Pan’s infatuation with her early on hadn’t actually damaged things as badly as she had worried it would. She had told her that she’d gotten over it at about the same time that Petra had apologized to her for letting it go on so long. They had laughed about it. But now, alone in the workroom, Pan felt the pressure again, felt herself watching the way Petra wouldn’t look at her without wincing, and she knew she had to set aside everything for her, for the friend she knew she could keep if she promised to never let any other part of what she felt escape. “I don’t even know what this is about,” Pan reached out and put a reassuring hand on Petra’s arm, “but you’re my friend. I’ll just pretend I never saw anything.” She shrugged. “Done. I promise.”

Petra’s face was lined with misery. “I don’t think it’s that easy. Faith already told me. I knew this would happen.” She looked up at Pan. “And I kind of want to know anyway.”

“Know what?”

“Who she is.”

“She who?” Pan looked at her oddly, like they weren’t talking about the same thing again. “You don’t mean the builder, do you? That’s a him.”

“No,” Petra looked at her meaningfully, “she’s not.” Pan looked like she wanted to argue, but Petra cut her off. “Trust me, it’s a she.” She tried biting her tongue in her mouth, but she wanted to know that Pan would have her back through this, and if she didn’t have it now, it wouldn’t matter later on. “She saved me, Pan. I need to know who she is. She and Faith got me out of that hell hole, and I need to know.”

Pan didn’t know anything. But she knew Petra, and she could see how earnestly she needed the solidity of their friendship right now, how badly she needed to be able to trust her. “Then we dig together?”

____________________

October 2012

Scotty laughed loudly, tipping his head back with a huge smile. He pointed at the skinny guy across from him. “I never thought you’d find that, man,” he chuckled. “I hid that easter egg like a month ago.”

“Dude,” Petra leaned in front of the pale blonde boy defensively, “maybe that’s because Boston is actually concerned about being a professional.” She was smiling though. She turned and looked up at him, hoping Scotty’s joke was worth it to him, or maybe that he would at least appreciate her being on his side. He smiled back in a shy, geeky way, and adjusted his glasses to break their eye contact. 

“Phe has some kind of opening she’s been working on,” Claude picked up her cup and took a long drink. “She might be vetting someone.” She tucked a strand of dyed purple hair back behind her left ear. “Would you two put in for it?” She glanced between Scotty and Boston. They each shrugged. Pan and Petra looked at each other secretly, knowing that things were developing quickly, and the rest of the team was bound to find out soon enough. They had a jump on the intel, so they knew the timeline was accelerating. It wasn’t terribly surprising that Claude had finally caught on.

“Nobody’s gonna fight you for it, Claude.” Scotty’s face was serious, as though he was a little scared of her, which he definitely was. The door to the shop opened, and a trim figure walked in from the brisk outside air. She swept her hair out of her eyes and edged over toward the group. “Holy shit!” Scotty called out. 

Pan sat forward in her chair and clutched her cup in both hands. She smiled up at the tall girl who sat down roughly next to her. She took up twice the space that Pan gave herself. They exchanged a look. Pan smiled. Drama pointed to the cup in her hands with an apologetic look. 

“It’s fine,” Pan answered. “I’m empty anyway.” She raised her eyebrows and lifted the cup. 

Drama put up a finger and made a half circle with it. Pan nodded. The blonde stood up to walk to the counter and order a refill.

“What about mine?” Claude called out to her back. Drama didn’t turn around, but she did offer a middle finger from over her shoulder. Claude snorted a laugh out of her nose. “Asian hater,” Claude mumbled loudly.

“She doesn’t hate me,” the voice beside her piped into the conversation. “And I’d fight you for a promotion if Murdock posts one.” He sat back and folded his arms over his chest, looking at Claude from under his dark eyes and full, black eyebrows.

“Pakistani isn’t Asian,” Claude sneered at him. She was always pissed at someone or something. And no one in that group was going to point out when she was wrong.

“It’s too high level,” Petra fiddled with the ends of her braids. The others looked over to her. She shrank back in her chair. “She wants a specific engineer,” she whispered into her cup, trying not to make eye contact with anyone in particular.

“What do you know about it?” Scotty sat at the edge of his seat and leaned across the table. “Did she create the profile yet?”

“Murdock isn’t making a profile for this one,” Pan looked sheepishly at Petra, and they both frowned a bit. “She has someone in mind.”

Behind the chatter Drama pulled out a pen and a sticky note from her jeans pocket, scribbled a quick note on one and tore it off to hand to the barista behind the counter. She passed a few bills across the counter to pay for the beverages. The friendly cashier smiled at her and got to work labeling cups. She signaled to the other barista to help fill the order. Drama waited patiently and then brought back two carriers of drinks for everyone at the table. Pan’s was in a grande cup, and Drama tried to hold back the smile as she passed it over. The others reached in and found cups with their names on them. Everyone smiled at her.

“Oh,” Claude let the sound fall out of her mouth when she saw the cup with her name on it. “Thanks?”

Drama shrugged. She picked up her own cup and sat back, joining the crowd but always as an outsider.

“So who’s the lead on the recruitment then?” Claude asked Pan. Pan self-consciously glanced sideways at Drama and then looked at the floor. Claude’s eyes followed her. “The fuck?” she sat back. “You’re in on this?” Drama refused to react. She breathed out of flared nostrils slowly. Claude took this as confirmation, even though it was really more the nature of her frustration that all of this was leaking now, right when she had hoped to keep it quiet for another week. “So there’s an active recruitment?” Drama’s eyes flicked sideways toward Pan. “But no profile, so Phe is going external?” Drama stared at Claude, narrowing her eyebrows. She wasn’t really at liberty to say anything about this, but they’d gotten this far without her help, and she didn’t want to make Pan feel like she’d gotten into something too restricted. It was, and she had, but Drama liked the notion of protecting her somehow. Claude picked up her cup and took a long drink. She looked at Drama again with something like a thank you in her eyes. That one. Dang. Drama hadn’t meant to be in constant arguments with her, but she didn’t make it easy. She was practically combustible. 

“So who’s the target?” Scotty asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Claude shot back at all of them, ending the argument. “If Phe has someone specific in mind for it, then it’s not for any of us.”

“We’re not missing anyone on the team,” Boston said, ignoring Claude’s bitter attitude. His tone was a little defensive.

Drama had to agree that this new recruitment was going to be a problem, and she had already put in her questions to Murdock about it. She knew better than to share any of that with this group. She understood the need, especially after closing the Coyotero case the prior fall. They had scraped by with barely enough plausible information to cover their own work with a few BPD busts, but they were missing the right person to do the work that would have made the difference. The risk that this had already brought to her, the way it had forced her and Faith apart, she knew more bad luck would follow, and she dreaded the thought that there could be more for her to lose. Drama tried to shake off anything that could reveal what she knew. This conversation really shouldn’t even be happening. She glanced sidelong at Pan for less time than it took either of them to blink, hoping she could see the warning.

Pan charged in without realizing how far she was going. “We don’t have a builder.”

“Whoa,” Mac sat back in his chair. “Nobody hires builders. They work solo. They’re like…”

“Like dark, evil Sith lords,” Scotty supplied what the rest of them hadn’t thought to put into full on geeky Star Wars logic. “Why the hell would Murdock want to take a chance on a builder? They could overthrow everything we have in Vector without breaking a sweat. This would be a really dangerous move.”

Drama wanted to high five him. He had called out exactly what her concerns had been. Still, she knew she needed to intervene and get them off this topic entirely. She pulled out her sticky notes, wrote one word on the top one, and threw it onto the table with a look that wouldn’t allow for challenge. 

Stop.

Everyone sat back without another word. Scotty tanked his entire cappuccino, then looked toward Drama with what felt like another apology. He realized he had said too much and probably gotten too close to the truth. They all knew she wouldn’t have stopped them otherwise. Drama stood up awkwardly, ready to leave, but Pan was right there. She was small and timid most of the time, but right now she put herself in Drama’s way with her whole body. “It’s my fault. You shouldn’t have to leave just because I couldn’t shut up about it.” But Drama only smiled at her, knowing that no one else really wanted her to stay. Pan was only making it worse. She took the girl by the shoulders and gently moved her aside, walking around and out the door of the coffee house. Pan dropped her head into her hands and sat down. “I really suck.”

____________________

“Did we seriously fuck up?” Pan whispered to Petra beside the refrigerator in the kitchenette. “I mean, I know the others know now, and they were already saying stuff, but Drama was totally right. And now she won’t talk to me.” Petra raised her eyebrows at her friend. “You know what I mean.”

“Chill out,” Petra smiled at her. “Blame Claude or something.” Pan looked at the office where Drama was sitting at her desk, typing away at something, and her face was loaded with guilt. “I don’t really think she’s mad at you,” Petra tried to tell her. “She’s just, like… pent up over…” 

Pan looked at her sharply. They had silently agreed up until this point to stay out of their friends’ relationship problems, but Petra was opening that door, and Pan really wanted something to latch onto to make herself feel like less of an asshole over the entire coffee scene from the morning. “Is Faith still… I mean, are they even talking?”

Petra looked at the office, side by side with Pan. “You’d think that you could stuff two people who are crazy about each other into a little room, and they’d eventually figure things out on their own, but I swear, those two are hellbent on avoiding each other.”

“Maybe they just need a little help.”

“Help?” Petra raised her eyebrows. She had chosen dark red eye shadow this morning. It was distractingly colorful, and Pan frowned at it for a moment. 

“We could set them up on a date?” Pan suggested. 

“Too obvious,” Petra turned her attention back to the office. Drama and Faith both got up at the same time from their desk, and each one moved the long way around the table to avoid the other. “Team bowling?”

Pan shook her head. “Drama would kick everyone’s ass. She’s sporty. And she hates loud places anyway.”

“Well we can’t go anywhere that has alcohol, or Faith won’t leave the bar.”

“Chuck E. Cheese?” Pan giggled.

“Ooh!” Petra clapped her hands together. “You are so smart!”

“Wait, hang on,” Pan called after her friend as she started back to the desks. “I was joking. That’s a terrible idea.” But Petra just grinned wickedly at her as she put her huge headphones back on and plugged into her computer.

____________________

November 2012

Faith held the door open for Drama, then closed it behind both of them once they were inside Murdock’s office. Every surface was shiny, spotless, sterile. Nothing was out of place, and there was nothing useless to distract her. This was an office of pure authority. 

Murdock glanced up at them as they sat opposite her. “It sounds as though you’ve been successful, Drama?” 

Her question was answered with a curt nod. Drama slipped a folder across the desk to the Director, avoiding Faith’s face completely. It was her final report on Rosenberg’s supposed whereabouts, complete with her recent contacts, surveillance reports from the field, and a proposed timeline for extraction.

“Very thorough,” Murdock mumbled as she read. 

Faith adjusted how she was sitting. She wasn’t squirming, but it was clear she had something to say. She waited for Murdock to catch her gaze. “It isn’t going to be that easy,” she warned. 

“Of course not,” Murdock agreed, setting the paper down. “Which is why I’m giving you express permission to bring her in yourself.” Drama could feel Faith clench beside her. “I want this done discreetly, Faith. I understand your… personal involvement makes things complex for you, but I believe that may also be key in providing the interest necessary to her agreeing to our terms.”

“I need a team,” Faith looked down at her folded hands in her lap. Her voice sounded rough and unfamiliar. Drama wondered just how much she had been working on this already, preparing for it, maybe even knowing that Ophelia would appoint her the lead. “Two, maybe three.”

The Director nodded. “Done. Let me know once you’ve established contact. I’d like her to have forty-eight hours to consider our offer.” Her eyes shifted to Drama. “I expect this establishment to be an impenetrable fortress, even to her. Lock down everything. Delete anything you can’t seal off.”

Drama stared back at her, knowing she was asking for a lot, for more than she might even be capable of delivering. But no amount of challenging her on this had worked to date, so she simply nodded back, knowing that she had her work cut out for herself for the next few days.

They left the office together, walking slowly down the hallway. Drama chanced a look at Faith, who kept her jaw tight, her eyes straight ahead. “No, I don’t really want to talk about it,” she said through gritted teeth. 

Drama held the office door open for her and watched Faith throw herself down into her chair. They sat at their computers for a long time, listening to the ticking of the analog clock on the wall. Drama checked the time every ten minutes, but it wasn’t moving the way she wanted it to. She wanted some quiet time with Faith with everyone else gone. She wanted a chance to apologize, to explain what she had done and why. But she knew Faith didn’t want to hear any of that. 

F – You’re kind of driving me crazy with all your questions.  
D – Haven’t said a word. Can’t.  
F – You know exactly what I mean.  
D – You haven’t said anything to me since the other day.  
F – Not true. I asked you to charge my phone for me yesterday.  
D – It was at 60%. You just wanted an excuse to have a conversation. But then you left.

Faith sighed noisily. “This isn’t exactly easy for me, you know.”

D – It would be easier if you would talk to me about it.  
F – Not so good at talking about my own issues.  
D – Is she the reason for your jailtime?  
F – Yes and no. It was my fault. I got caught.  
D – You were only charged as an accessory.  
F – The other four got off with zero.

Drama sat back and looked at the screen. Four? Her research had only uncovered three. Her fingers vibrated as they rested on the keys of her keyboard. Well, looking for a needle in a haystack and finding more than just the one was a pretty good start, but clearly there was a lot more she didn’t know. And she technically didn't have their specific geographic locations. Not yet.

“You know,” Faith rolled around from her side of the desk and glared at the other woman, “it’s really sexy how smart you are until you turn that shit around on me. I know you only knew about three, but there’s a fourth, and you won’t find that one.” She tossed her hair back from her shoulder and pulled at it with both hands. The motion was so Faith, the same mannerism she used all the time, and Drama had to steel herself against her body’s reaction to watching how she moved. “If you’re working this so damn hard, then work it with me,” Faith finally said. Her face was set and grim, determined. 

Drama lowered her eyes for a moment, thinking. But it wasn’t rocket science. She nodded.

“She just ran that extortion ring for a very specific reason.” Drama knew exactly what she had meant. The connection between all of the victims wasn’t surface level, but she had found the pattern without too much effort. “I say we go find her reason and use her as leverage.” Faith stuck the end of her thumb in between her front teeth and bit down, knowing that Drama could take this one of two ways. 

She quickly wrote on the paper at the end of the desk, ‘M wants to hire her, not take her down.’

Faith leaned onto the desk, right next to the pen Drama was holding. The blonde’s shoulders clenched suddenly, and Faith sat back just a fraction, feeling immediately guilty about being so far into her own head that she hadn’t even thought about Drama. “Phe doesn’t know her like I do,” Faith said after they had taken a moment to breathe together, to calm themselves. “She’s dangerous. You don’t just ask someone like Rosenberg to walk in your front door so that you can offer them a job. And she won’t even take it. Murdock is completely wrong about her.”

‘You think we need the leverage to keep her from damaging Vector.’

“Look,” Faith turned her head to face Drama better. Her expression changed, and her eyes were soft again, the same warm person Drama had spent so many nights with, laughing, sitting, just being. “I know what you’re capable of, and you’re brilliant. I’m not sure I’ve known anybody who’s as quick as you are with this shit.” Drama wanted to smile, but she could sense a ‘but’ coming. “But you’re playing tee ball, and Rosenberg is a major league MVP. She can’t beat you in an all-out sprint, but that’s because she can work marathons. I’ve watched her build for thirty-six hour stretches without sleep. She hacked the fucking pentagon when she was thirteen, for christ’s sake!”

Even Drama had to sit back with that thought for a minute. She knew Rosenberg was smart, that she had serious skill, but she had thought that was something she’d had to work on. This sounded more… innate. 

“But if we have leverage… the girlfriend,” Faith managed to look both guilty and validated at the same time, “then we win before the round even starts.”

Drama looked down at her paper for a moment, needing to write more but uncertain how to begin. She played with the pencil. She managed to get two words down, ‘Was she-‘ and then the pencil was taken clean out of her hand. 

Faith held it and stared into her green eyes. “No,” she said firmly. “And gross!” The look of revulsion on her face made Drama smile for a heartbeat. “She’s like a complete nerd.”

‘I’m a nerd.’

“No,” Faith shook her head, “not by a long shot. You’re smart and hot as fuck and you’re wearing those kind of tight jeans I really like on you, and I’m getting a little off track, but my point is that Rosenberg wasn’t ever anything to me. She was just…”

Drama held her breath, not sure what part of the things Faith was saying to focus on. ‘She was your friend,’ she finally wrote.

“Yeah, well…” Faith sat back away from the desk, ran her hands through her hair again. “That was a long time ago. Things change.”

‘I’ll arrange surveillance on the girlfriend,’ Drama wrote and pushed the pad across the desk to her. 

Faith got up and slipped on her jacket. She walked toward the door and stopped just long enough to look back at Drama, who was packing her things up. She had bent over to pick up her bag from the floor where it rested under the end of the desk. “Yeah,” Faith’s voice sounded like she was smiling for a change. “Those jeans are definitely a nice fit on you.”

Drama blushed and snapped up in time to see Faith leering at her just a bit as she walked down the hallway and out of sight.


	10. Chapter 10

November 2012

Faith strolled up to the fun center and yanked the doors open. She was hit with the smell of stale popcorn, worn carpets, and shoes. Nasty, used shoes. She looked around in the dark to the patches of fluorescent lights: small bowling alley, mini golf, pinball machines, and a loud group of dorks huddled around a video game. Bingo. She came up behind Scotty and scared the crap out of him, announcing her arrival. 

“You’re late,” Petra scowled at her. “Mac already took the high score Donkey Kong, and he says he never even played before tonight.”

Boston was cheering him on wildly, but Mac was cool as he passed another level. Faith raised her eyebrow at all the geek bonding happening, but Drama was there on the left edge of the crowd, watching her patiently. “Nice place,” she said with zero interest to Petra without looking at her. Pan had grabbed Drama’s hand to haul her off for a doubles game of Mortal Kombat not far away. Something inside of Faith twitched. It had been at least a year since she had spent any time with Drama outside of the office. They had settled back into some strange routine of being together, of knowing they were each there, but never saying anything about it. 

“Hey, hello?” Petra grabbed Faith’s arm. She had to turn around and ask her to repeat herself. Pan stared at her like she was an alien. “What’s up with you tonight?”

“I’m good,” she shrugged it off. 

“Do you want to play some mini golf?” Petra asked for the second time. “Scotty’s already getting tickets… What are you staring at?” she moved over to see where Faith kept looking.

Some days Faith would look across the desk at her, at her perfect green eyes looking back, at the way her hair would fall around the edge of her face when she concentrated on something on her screen, and if she was lucky, Drama would look at her the same way. But there was always an edge to it now, something that neither of them could work their way past, and it burned in Faith’s chest. 

“Nowhere. Nothing.” Faith moved around, intentionally scanning the rest of the building for something to do. “Mini golf is boring. Why did you guys pick this place? Are we supposed to pretend we’re twelve again? Do they even sell beer?”

“No,” Petra frowned at her. “It’s called a family fun center for a reason.”

“You clearly never met my mom,” Faith walked off toward the games on the other side, picking up on the chatter coming from Pan, who had challenged Drama to a game and was losing horribly. She watched them play, noticing that Drama was trying desperately to let the younger girl win, but even that wasn’t helping her. “You’re like a lethal weapon,” Faith said from behind them.

Drama turned quickly, her heart racing at being surprised. The look she gave Faith was a mixture of relief and terror, which twisted her eyebrows in confusion. She shrugged a hello and looked away. 

Faith wanted her to look back, to look into her face completely, like she had the week before. Something had shifted between them that night, and some part of what they had made their way toward from months earlier was there again for a moment. It had been so, so late. They had worked for longer than usual, and she was tired. They were both tired. Drama had tilted her head toward the door. Time to go home. Call it a night. They stood up, started to collect their things, and then Drama had walked up close to her, had stood there looking into her eyes for the longest time. Faith had frozen in place, terrified she would trigger something to ruin the moment. She couldn’t even say a word. Drama had leaned closer, closed her eyes for just a moment, and brushed the last few inches of Faith’s long hair in her fingers. It probably only lasted a few seconds, but it felt like hours. 

Pan had scored a few hits and was jumping in place, but Drama’s hands couldn’t seem to hold back the attacks from her character, and the KO dominated the screen. 

“It clearly wasn’t a fair fight,” Faith tried to rationalize for her.

“You’re absolutely right, Faith,” Pan hopped out of the way. “You take the next round.” She grabbed Faith’s hand and shoved her up to the joystick, shoulder to shoulder with the blonde, right at the end of the countdown. 

Faith eyed Drama for a split second and then launched into game mode, fending off attacks, striking, spinning, and calling up all of the skills she had honed in her youth, but her concentration was terrible. She took an upper cut from Drama, whose eyes never left the screen. She was kicking the utter shit out of Faith’s character, all the while the brunette was looking at the details of Drama’s clenched jaw, the muscles of her neck, how she held her bottom lip in her teeth right before she struck out. 

“That was pathetic,” Pan sighed from behind them. “I thought you’d be good at this since you’re like old and stuff,” she taunted.

“Do you need me to change your diaper, squirt?” Faith sneered back at her. Pan waved her off and said something about finding the pizza they had ordered. 

Drama watched her walk away, slowly realizing that had left her alone with Faith. Again. She blew the next breath out between her teeth. When she looked over, Faith was pulling off her leather jacket, which had caught on the button of her shirt and was opening it over her bra more than she probably realized. She considered looking away, but her desire wouldn’t let go quickly enough. And, of course, Faith noticed her watching. She always seemed to notice. 

“You like to drive?” Faith asked with a wicked smile. She didn’t wait for an answer. Something about her eyes hooked into Drama and dragged her across the floor to a race car game. They each slid in, Faith right beside Drama, forcing her to scoot over and make space. She had no idea what game they were even sitting in. “I haven’t done any of this arcade stuff since I was a kid,” she stuffed coins into the slots on both sides of the machine. “Seems a little silly now, but Petra insisted.”

Drama shrugged. She had been roped into it, too, so the sentiment was shared. She reached over to tap something on Faith’s console so that they could set up the game. Her arm was so close to the other woman that she stopped to look at her and got swept up in those brown eyes again.

“You can fight all you want, Hayes,” Faith’s eyes glittered back at her in the dark. “But eventually, I’ll win. Just you watch.”

Drama pulled her arm back onto her side of the seat and squared herself with the screen, trying not to concentrate on what the gorgeous woman next to her had just said. But her brain just wouldn’t respond the way she needed it to. Pan hadn’t said anything about them inviting Faith to this, and she was starting to feel a little set up. And Pan should have known better. Drama hadn’t talked about Faith in months. She kept everything tucked away neatly inside and held close, so that she didn’t have to acknowledge what had been happening in those quiet margins.

The game started, and Faith stepped on the accelerator. They raced and crashed over and over, barely making it around the off-road track on the screen. Faith yelled at the game when her car wouldn’t turn around after her latest crash, which only made Drama smile wider. She pulled ahead for a minute only to have Faith catch her and crash both of their cars. They played three times, getting worse with each try, until both of them were laughing at their reckless driving and horrible aim. 

Faith could hear the small sounds of laughter coming from Drama’s mouth as she let go of being scared or worried and just had a good time. If it had been possible, she would have thrown herself across the seat and covered the girl with kisses. They were alone. The geek squad was off playing mini golf or something, no one would ever see them. She played it out in her mind and thought about how to get closer without making Drama feel like she needed to throw another punch. She moved her eyes slightly and caught Drama staring back at her. The racecars crashed into a wall and neither of them moved to fix it. Faith turned her head to stare without caring if it made Drama nervous. “I know we don’t ever talk anymore, because then maybe we’d lose… whatever it is we have when we…” She felt suddenly awkward, exposed. “And things were so good before. Last year. We had so much fun together.” She looked up into Drama’s beautiful eyes. “Can we have that back? That thing where you look at me like I’m the only thing you can see in the whole world? I mean, it’s not completely crazy for me to think you could still be into me, right?” she managed to say. “I know I’m a little intense… and pushy. But I see you watching me.” Her eyes drifted away for a moment. “Is it all in my head?”

Drama ducked her head and looked at the steering wheel in her hands like she had forgotten how it worked. She felt her heart racing in her chest and wondered silently if Faith was as steady on the inside as she appeared on the outside. She was always so sure, so confident, so utterly powerful with all of her beauty, that Drama wanted to shrink under her eyes. But now, she could see a hint of something in her face that looked for all the world like uncertainty, and Drama knew she had run off too many times, had pushed her away more than she should have, and this might be her last moment to salvage anything of what they could be. She pulled a hand free of the steering wheel and reached into her back pocket. She grabbed her phone and shoved it into Faith’s hand without warning.

“You want me to… look at your phone?”

She nodded, then reached out and unlocked it, selected the folder with her photos in it, and opened the app. Faith stared at the small thing in her hands and realized there were six pictures of her in there and nothing else. She thumbed through them. “These are…” her voice trailed off. Drama’s mouth was so dry as she watched her that she wanted to cough. “You’ve been keeping pictures of me?” Faith looked up at her. 

Drama tried to nod, to say yes somehow, but she felt frozen in place. She had just confessed that she had pictures of Faith, that she looked at them far more often than anyone knew. She felt suddenly exposed, and adrenaline shot into her legs, begging her to jump out and run.

“Well that one’s not bad,” Faith raised her eyebrows at the last picture. “I look pretty hot.” She attempted a smile at Drama, who looked like she was about to throw up all over the screen in front of them. “Does this mean you look at these alone at night and -”

Drama jumped and started to throw herself out of the seat, back into the arcade, but Faith was shouting after her in such a way that she hesitated for a split second.

“No, no wait! Come on, Hayes, please. Please don’t take off! I’m sorry!” Faith begged. Drama turned to look back at her, perched with one foot still inside the cramped space. “Look, I’m an asshole,” Faith held her hands up. “I’m a total dick, and I say shit like that because I’m defensive and scared. I’m sorry.”

Drama sat down again, all shuddering muscle and tight breathing. She mimed punching, then signed, ‘I do it, too.’ She ran her hands through her hair, pulling at it. Faith watched her grab something from her pocket, then pull her short hair back into a tiny ponytail. Most of it slipped out, little strands of straw blonde hair fell back at the nape of her neck and around her ears. She picked up her phone and held it up, pointing at Faith.

“Are you, like… asking for my number?” Faith said without trying to hope too much, or at least not out loud.

Drama swept the phone out of the brunette’s hand and punched in her own number, sent herself a text, then handed it back. She opened her message on her own phone and typed to Faith, ‘You probably think I’m stalking you now.’

Faith read the message with a blank face. She noticed that Drama had entered her name into the phone as Andromeda. She wanted to mention it, but she didn’t know how. “That’s not what I think,” she mumbled. “It’s… I think it’s sweet.” Faith reached toward her slowly with her left hand, leaving it on the tiny space of the bench between them, just close enough, but not actually touching. Drama’s body pulled back, and Faith could feel her tension skyrocket. “Chill out. Just breathe. Just like we used to do all the time, right?”

Drama looked at her stiffly, looked down at her hand, then looked back into those brown eyes. She could see Faith lift her head and inhale, then slowly drop her shoulders and exhale. She tried to do the same thing. Her breathing was jerky, but she slowed down enough to keep pace with the woman sitting next to her. She set her hand down beside her thigh and rested it next to Faith’s, close enough that their fingers almost touched. Faith looked back at her and blinked, still breathing intentionally, telling Drama with her eyes that it was fine, they could touch and nothing would go wrong. Nothing would explode. So she did. Their hands together felt electric, all tingling sensation, and a blurry sense of want and need and heat crept up her arm and into her shoulder. 

Faith smiled delicately up at her. Drama had held her hand once, so very long ago now, but they were in motion, and something about that moment had been easier with the crush of people around them, even if it hadn’t ended in a way that she could describe as good. But Drama had pulled her out of the water, had held her in strong hands, and she had kicked the crap out of that guy from the main security department. Faith’s reputation had changed a bit after that, and Drama had finally gotten one. The way Faith looked back at it, it was worth it. That was the first moment when she had known that Drama saw something in her worth going after, and here she was now, risking everything to hold her hand. Faith had never thought that she had the patience to pursue someone over nearly two years, but now, staring into the green eyes and light eyelashes of the girl sitting next to her, she wondered why she would ever have thought about walking away.

Faith licked her lips and let her eyes wander over Drama’s face. She was so close, near enough that she could feel her breath pass over her skin, and it wouldn’t take much to lean in, to bring their lips together. “Am I allowed to… to tell you that you’re really beautiful?” Faith asked. She felt the hand on top of hers falter. She could see panic rising in Drama’s eyes. “Okay. Right. No punches, okay?” She could see Drama shake her head an increment. “But I’m not blind, you know,” Faith shrugged. 

Faith’s dark hair fell forward over her shoulder, and Drama realized how close they were, how they were breathing in the same air. Faith’s shoulder was almost brushing against her own. She wanted to reach out and brush that gorgeous hair back, run her fingers through it like she had a few nights back, dive into her and show her all the things she was feeling but couldn’t say, but she knew her body would get carried away, and Faith would get hurt. She forced herself to sit back, and her spine dug into the plywood back of the bench painfully. It felt cold through her thin shirt. She had to look away, and her eyes caught on the flashing images on the screen in front of them. She pulled her hand away and tucked it under her other arm, wrapping herself up into a pretzel in complete frustration at herself. ‘I’m sorry,’ she signed. ‘I’m an idiot.’

Faith leaned over and dropped her forehead onto the steering wheel. They had been so close to figuring it out, and she had ruined it. Again. She lifted her head just enough to look sideways and saw Drama beating herself up in the same way. “Do you wanna,” she bit her lip, “maybe go someplace and get a beer? Or something?”

Drama looked at her with eyebrows raised. She shook her head. She nodded, then she stopped and shook her head again.

“Well that’s clear,” Faith swept her hair back and sat up. 

Drama rubbed her face with both hands. She grabbed her phone and held it out. Faith could see that she had a website open. She took the phone and read what was on the page. “Are you…” she glanced over, “you’re running in a 5K tomorrow?”

Drama held up two hands, all fingers up. She was doing the 10K run. ‘No beer,’ she signed.

“That’s…” Faith saw that it was for a charity for kids with cancer. “Dang, that’s actually really cool. So can I come watch?” 

She was smiling, and Drama wanted to say yes, but running wasn’t much of a spectator sport. She made a funny look with her face, quirking her eyebrows to ask why Faith would want to bother doing that. It seemed silly.

“Yeah, I don’t speak eyebrow, so I’m just going to assume you said, yes, Faith. That would be super.” Drama stared blankly back. “10K,” Faith went on, completely unperturbed. “I’m assuming you’re fast enough that you’ll be under an hour to finish.” She made a point of looking her up and down slowly. “I know you’re like pure muscle. So I’ll just be at the finish line to cheer you on.” She handed the phone back and slipped out of the game. Drama ducked out quickly to keep her eyes on the brunette. Faith was staring at her adoringly from the top of the box they had been sitting in forever. “You’re gonna be like sweaty and tired and hungry, so we’ll go for breakfast. Kay?” She didn’t want for an answer. Her jacket was on her shoulders, and she walked past Drama, brushed up close, and kissed her so fast on the cheek that Drama didn’t even have time to tense her arms in response. The camera on her phone flashed brightly, and Drama felt like a deer in headlights. Faith had taken a picture of them as she kissed her. “Now I have one of you,” she whispered. By the time Drama could breathe again, Faith was out the door and gone.

From the far side of the arcade, Pan and Petra watched, squealing as quietly as possible, shoulder to shoulder. They shared a high five and spent the rest of the night talking about how genius they both were for setting everything up perfectly. 

____________________

Drama didn’t sleep nearly as well as she wanted to that night. She needed the rest to be in her best shape to run at 9 AM, but she felt more like dragging her feet when she finally lined up with the other runners under the starting banner. Her mind drifted back to the sensation of Faith’s kiss on her left cheek over and over, no matter how many times she swore at herself to leave it alone, to let it go. Still, she wondered with anticipation if Faith would really be there at the finish line. Her breath was steady in her lungs as the runners took off in one big crowd. This was her least favorite part of organized runs. Too many people crushed in on each other, each losing sight of the pace that suited them best in order to slide around someone else or drop to the side out of the way. She held back slightly, which didn’t work as well for her as she had hoped, and now she had to work her way past everyone who was settling into a slower pace than she needed. Faith had been right the night before. Her target time to finish was fifty-two minutes. 

The air was clear and crisp, perfect for an autumn morning run. November was a magical time to be outside, especially if the rain held off, and Drama lived for these moments. She had spent all of the spring and most of the summer running, especially with her hand in a cast for so long. The weight training was going better now, but the strength in her legs and her lungs made the focus on running feel good, and the endorphins were amazing. This run stayed on an asphalt path through a huge park and along what was once a railroad that had been decommissioned into a trail for multiuse many years before. She passed trees and park benches, smooth banks along a river that followed the same path through the park, and freshly fallen leaves crunched under her feet. She tucked her stray hair back under her thin hat and passed another small group of women running together. She looked at them with a slight taste of envy. She hadn’t ever run with anyone, and it looked like everyone doing it always had fun. But it wasn’t like there would be anyone who might want to run with her and not talk out loud, so she hadn’t even tried to find a running buddy. The solitude was a good draw anyway. Running was so predictable, so rewarding with the lasting muscle burn that she wasn’t inclined to give it up for anything. 

She checked her watch and realized that the end of the run was coming up sooner than she had expected. Her brain had tuned out and settled itself so quickly that she rounded a curve in the trail and saw the finish banner up ahead. Her heart picked up, and she looked wildly around, but the crowd of people was too much to find anyone in. Everyone was in bright colors, fancy hats, jumping, shouting, and so Drama simply drove her legs to the finish and slowed down to walk and cool off. A volunteer checked the RFID chip in the paper tag on her shirt and slipped a metal around her neck. 

“It looks good on you,” came Faith’s voice from the side.

Drama turned and saw her, and she smiled without meaning to. She tried to shake it off, but the endorphins from the run overpowered her. She dove toward a table of cups of water as a diversion and immediately tanked three of them without stopping.

“Good thing I got here early,” Faith watched her with fascination. “You’re zippy. Feeling hungry yet?” She motioned toward the parking lot and started walking away, somehow knowing that Drama would follow. She found Drama’s car easily and held out a hand for the keys, which the blonde tossed over. It might actually be nice not to have to drive right away while her legs cooled down from the run. “Carbs, here we come,” Faith smiled at her as she started the car. Drama smiled back like a complete fool and wished with everything in her that her face would knock it off. “You’re pretty cute in tights,” Faith raised her eyebrows as they drove.

Drama looked out the window suddenly, realizing that there was no way to hide or shift or move anything in running clothes. She hadn’t thought of that at all. She took off her hat and thin gloves, hoping that her hair wasn’t totally wrecked from sweat and being in a hat for over an hour. She chanced a glance at Faith as she looked left and signaled for a turn. She noticed that the woman was having no problem with the old stick shift car, like she had grown up driving them. Faith was usually dressed nicely for work, or maybe in something equally flattering when they’d seen each other elsewhere, but now she was simply in old jeans with worn patches and a zipped up hooded sweatshirt. The design on it looked like it was from a roller derby team, all pistols and skulls in pink print, and the simplicity of all of it struck Drama as incredibly attractive. It wasn’t hard to imagine pressing up against her to snuggle on a couch and watch a movie, which was the most chaste part of where her mind went when she stared at that zipper. 

They pulled into the parking lot for the pancake house Faith had mentioned, and Drama followed her inside, sitting opposite her in the squishy bench. Faith ordered a platter breakfast for each of them without bothering to ask what Drama wanted, and then proceeded to demand every flavor of syrup that was available. She caught Drama snicker at her as the server walked away. “You makin’ fun of me, Hayes? I’ll have you know, syrup is essential to a quality breakfast.” She reach down and pulled out a small notepad and pencil and pushed it across the table to Drama with a sweet grin. “So tell me about your run.”

Drama poured cream into the coffee cup and wrote on the notepad, ‘It felt good. Nice weather.’ She held onto the paper and pulled it back, feeling like taking a different approach. Faith had been bold, maybe she could, too. ‘You look different. Relaxed. I like it.’

Faith frowned at her and gave her very sad eyes. “I was going for a dressed-up vibe.”

Drama took a sip of hot coffee just as Faith spoke, and she tried hard to gulp, but she also felt the need to laugh, which resulted in her spraying coffee out of her nose and all over her lap. She instantly wanted to vanish into the back of the bench. Faith laughed so hard she almost slipped off the bench on her own side, but she managed somehow to throw an extra cloth napkin at Drama’s head. They each had to wipe tears out of their eyes from laughing so hard, and they refused to look back at the rest of the people in the dining area staring at them. 

‘I’m sorry,’ Drama signed repeatedly. 

“Well I’m not!” Faith chuckled at her. “I haven’t seen you look so surprised since Paul The Asshole tossed me in the pool two years ago.”

‘Tiny Dick Paul?’ Drama wrote on a dry sheet of the notepad. They snickered again. ‘Soft abs,’ she wrote on the next line. Her face was lit up with a sinister smile.

“You’re vicious, Hayes,” Faith beamed back at her. She looked down at her lap and then back up into Drama’s eyes. “I never really said thank you for that.”

The blonde kept smiling, but her eyes changed. She looked closer, more serious. She wrote down the words, ‘It was worth it,’ but then crossed part of it out and rewrote, ‘You’re worth it.’

“No,” Faith blushed slightly. “I meant thank you for jumping in after me.” Her shoulders contracted at the memory from so long ago. “You could have turned right there and kicked the crap out of him, but you didn’t. You came in for me first. I mean, you probably didn’t know if I could swim, or maybe you did. But… you just… you did that for me.”

Drama sat back and glanced nervously up at the person setting plates of food down in front of them. She felt like it was the best rescue from Faith’s words. There was no way she could figure out how to respond to that. A second plate of pancakes sat next to the first, which was more of a serving platter than a plate. She looked a little overwhelmed. 

“It’s not rocket science,” Faith demonstrated. “Just pick a syrup and start pouring.” She smothered her stack of pancakes in one of the flavors she had chosen. 

Drama aimed for her eggs and bacon without even thinking about anything else. ‘This was a good idea,’ she wrote.

“Pancakes,” Faith pointed with a small scowl. “Your focus is way off.”

Drama pointed at the platter. ‘Protein,’ she signed and spelled with her free hand. When Faith kept staring at her like she was the strange one, Drama sat forward, yanked off the long sleeve shirt over her the tank top that was her base layer, and happily showed her all of the muscles in her arms.

Faith choked on her pancakes enough to have to hide her face for a moment. Drama could see her blushing even harder, and she wondered if she’d been too cocky. “Wow,” the brunette finally managed. “I’ve stared at you in the gym plenty of times, but that is insanely sexy.”

Drama should have known Faith would say something like that, something that would be a playful slap of sincerity, and normally she would have shied away. But this time, she leaned forward and stuffed bacon in her mouth, smiling at Faith. She liked how it felt, and pushed a little further. ‘How was that picture last night?’ she wrote.

Faith read her words and blanched in an uncomfortable way. So that’s what it felt like to be at the end of her snappy sayings. “Is that really what I sound like?” she tried to joke. Drama’s face dropped just enough to give her the answer she needed.

Drama pulled the notepad back and wrote with her eyebrows scrunched together. She slid it across the table with a firm glare. ‘I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t push a little. I would never have had the guts to talk to you.’

Faith looked from the notepad up into the green eyes opposite her. “You realize this is our first real date, right?”

Drama put her head into one hand and pointed at Faith. Yep. Just like that. ‘Thanks for dressing up nice,’ she wrote. Her words made Faith smile broadly, and Drama felt warm all over to see how happy she was. 

Everything felt so good again. So right after so long, and they talked in the pancake house until it was obvious that their server thought they had overstayed their welcome. They picked themselves up and laughed all the way out to the car in the parking lot. Drama felt a little stiff from sitting for so long. She stretched her legs against the bumper of the car. 

“Do those go all the way up?” Faith joked next to her. But something in her eyes wasn’t all joking, and Drama felt her stomach flip just a little at the suggestive look from her. Faith leaned sideways against the car, examining her. “You still get that nervous after all this time?”

Drama nodded. Her mouth was suddenly dry. She was absently grateful that she couldn’t speak out loud. Her voice surely wouldn’t have worked in a moment like this anyway. 

Faith wouldn’t look away. “Can we maybe try…” she raised her eyebrows, and Drama felt a wave of panic rising up through her tired legs, along her spine, hitting her shoulders. It was like a shot of pure adrenaline, and it made her skin itch terribly. 

She should have just said no, shaken her head, done anything to stop her. It would have been a better memory, even without anything close or intimate to it. Drama could have looked back on today and smiled, thought about the potential of what they could have done, maybe looked forward to something more. But that isn’t how it all went. 

Drama came to herself after only a single hazy breath of incoherent movement. She wasn’t even quite sure how it happened, but her forearms were pinning Faith against the back hatch of the car with way too much force, and she could feel Faith’s chest under her strength seizing, trying to breathe. She jumped back and let go, and Faith’s feet hit the ground again after falling a few inches. Drama’s tunnel vision opened wide and sound came back into her ears all at once, and she could hear the gut-wrenching sound of Faith coughing and struggling to inhale again. She choked on her own vile actions, on what this meant about her, on how this could have happened. Again. She would have set off running, but she was disoriented, and Faith was trying to talk to her, trying to reassure her that this was fine, that they were both somehow okay, which was utter bullshit. Being out of control and being stupid were two distinctly different things, and the latter wasn’t an option. Drama knew better. She was a monster.

“No, no, come on,” Faith begged her. Her voice was still rough from the intense compression. “You can’t do this. You can’t slip away every time.” Drama looked back at her from her turned shoulder, in so much pain from her outburst that Faith knew she wouldn’t get anything back from her right now. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have-”

Drama couldn’t hold it back. She waved her arms in Faith’s face to start signing, and she saw Faith flinch in fear, which only made it worse. ‘You see? You know I’m a piece of shit. How is it ever okay for you to apologize for me hurting you? And we’re here again. Again, again, again. I can’t be close to you. You keep getting hurt.’

“Well you yelling at me isn’t helping either!” Faith shouted back at her.

Drama moved back like Faith had smacked her. She hated and loved it when the woman understood her. ‘Sorry,’ she signed quietly. ‘Are you okay?’ 

She could tell that Faith really didn’t understand any sign, but she hoped her eyes conveyed something. “I am. I’m okay,” Faith rubbed at her neck. “And fuck, you move like lightning. I swear I never saw that coming.” Drama rubbed her face and head with her hands. It wasn’t really a compliment. “Now can we please just try this again?”

No, no, no, Drama shook her head and crossed her arms over and over. Absolutely not. 

Faith stuck her finger out at the blonde with authority. “Shut the fuck up, Hayes. This is not all about you.” Drama sat back on her heels and crossed her arms over herself. “And if you think I’m a quitter, then you don’t know me at all.” She stared the taller woman down. “So clearly I just need to remember to move slower. Right?”

Drama knew she should nod, should agree, so she did. And Faith really was right. The fast movement had sparked part of her reaction. But she didn’t know how to explain that just being around her got everything in her body primed, amped for these outbursts. Her face relaxed and she looked at Faith, who didn’t appear to have any of the fear left from moments before. Drama nodded again, this time more clearly.

“I can work with that. Can you?”

Yes. She nodded again.

“I know you’re shaken up. I can see it.” Faith took a deep breath. “But will you please just…” something in her voice caught, and she stopped. Drama could see it now. She could see how upset Faith really was, how much she was holding back in order to salvage something between them. “I know that’s not all there is inside of you. I need there to be something else.” Her body fell back against the car again, emotionally wiped.

Drama summoned all of her courage and walked over to the car. She leaned over on her left shoulder in the same way that Faith was leaning on her right, and they faced each other over the back window. She put her hand up onto the surface of the car between them, palm flat, and waited. Faith put her hand up next, close but not touching. After another breath, Drama moved her hand on top of Faith’s lacing their fingers over one another, and the look of relief on Faith’s face was enough to fuel her with hope.

____________________

The keycard reader on the side of the building flashed green as she brushed her pocket against it. She walked inside. The interior of the building at this level was all concrete, all subterranean. It was the same temperature year round. She hopped down the half flight of stairs and pushed the door into the locker room. It was quiet inside. Drama appreciated that they had a full locker room and gym in the building, and she used it regularly. No one else would be here now. She had it to herself. She changed into the clothes from her locker and filled her water bottle, then pushed through the door to the gym interior. The lights were on. Fuck. Not again. Not today. She looked around and saw the brunette looking through the medicine balls in the corner.

This had been a terrible week. Her outburst from the previous weekend haunted her. All of her movements were uncoordinated, clumsy, and they made her run away from Faith every time they were close to each other in the shared office. She didn’t know what to say or how to look at her after everything, after so clearly revealing how she felt and where all of this was going. The desire building up in her was hard enough to deal with, but the vicious, uncontrollable movements her body lashed out with made everything impossible and terrifying. 

Faith looked up at her and held back a smile. Her lips twitched for a split second, and then she picked up a ball and rolled out a mat on the floor. Drama thought about turning around, coming back at some other point, but she hated sharing the space with anyone else, and she knew it would be busier later in the morning and around lunch. “I’ll stay out of your way,” Faith said over her shoulder. She dropped to the floor and started a series of offset pushups with one hand on the medicine ball. 

Drama worked her way over to the other side of the space and set to work putting the bar on the floor and looking for the right plates. She peeked in the mirror on the wall to watch the brunette’s back ripple with each pushup. She was wearing a tight fitting tank in black, the kind with those strappy little pieces that looked feminine and powerful all at the same time. Her long, brown hair was loose and draped over her far shoulder, leaving all of her exposed skin visible. Faith switched the ball to the other hand and glanced up, smiling as she caught the woman’s eye in the mirror. Fuck. Drama looked back at the 20KG plate in her hand and reached for a spring clip. Drama fit on the last clamp and toed the bar over her laces, stepping into her deadlift position. She took the bar in a mixed grip and almost got the first lift in before the voice interrupted her composure. 

“Light day today?” Faith sat on the bench facing her. “I usually see you use the red ones. Twenty-five, right?” Her skin had the slightest glow from a light sweat. Drama locked the bar in her hands and tried desperately to ignore the woman staring at her. She knew she was fucking with her. She knew as much as Drama did about free weights and every other piece of equipment in this gym. But she wanted to see a reaction. Some sort of recognition. Anything. Drama lifted the bar flawlessly four times. She wiped her hands on a towel and turned to take a drink from her bottle. 

“I could spot you sometime,” Faith went on. “Always good to have a buddy.” She moved over to the dumbbells and looked through them casually. Drama wiped her wet mouth on the towel and ran the cloth over her brow. This was impossible. She wanted a moment alone to breathe and think. She wanted not to look at the curve of Faith’s neck, how perfect every angle of her was. “We have some time before that meeting this morning.” Faith was standing right next to her, looking right at her face. Drama couldn’t get her eyes off the floor, and there was nowhere else in the room to go. She took another drink just to have a way to move in her confinement. She knew Faith wanted to work on something other than weights, that she wanted to push for more progress, more of anything, but Drama was still terrified of hurting her, and she never really knew just how bad it could get.

She looked up and glared into Faith’s beautiful features. She held the scowl for an impossibly long time, but Faith just shrugged it off with a full smile, showing her teeth. “Feeling bold this morning, huh?” Faith whispered. Drama tried with everything in her being not to soften, but something in her chest betrayed her. She must have twitched, or maybe she blinked. She wasn’t feeling bold. She was feeling like caving in on top of herself, and it wasn’t the sort of thing she wanted anyone else to see. Ever. But Faith had seen it, and she responded. Her eyes lowered, and something about her posture let go, relaxed. “You don’t have to be tough,” she smiled delicately. This was a different smile. It was inviting and warm and genuine. It was everything Faith never was when they were around anyone else. But together, when it was just the two of them, this was the real person Drama desperately wanted to see, the same one who terrified her.

Time seemed to slow down as they stood looking at each other. Drama let her eyes move over the features of Faith’s soft face, the perfect glow of her skin, darker than her own but not by much. Her hair always had this wave to it that wasn’t enough to curl and not enough to be straight, but the smell of it was intoxicating. She could feel her body responding. Her fingertips tingled. It would be so simple to just reach out and touch her, nothing big, she could pull away anytime she wanted. Right? She argued with herself and closed her eyes, balled her hands into fists. She could feel Faith looking at her the same way and knew she was waiting for the right opportunity to make her own move. 

Faith opened her mouth to say something, then hesitated and turned aside, moving away by half a step. “I’m sorry,” she shook it off. “I’m pushing again.” She picked out a set of dumbbells and put one knee on the end of the bench behind her to work on her single-hand row. Drama watched her for a moment, picking apart the details of how she moved, how she worked to lift the weight. She stepped around the bench, grabbed a much heavier weight, and placed it on the ground right where Faith needed to drop the one in her hand. Drama grabbed the dumbbell out of her grip and pointed to the one she replaced it with. Faith looked up at her. “I’m not lifting forty,” she frowned. Drama grabbed her wrist and put her hand forcefully on the weight, then shifted to grab her hips and line them up square. She kicked Faith’s right shoe forward a few inches. Faith watched her hands moving deftly through each adjustment. She felt a tap on the back of her elbow. Drama moved in front of her and slapped a hand on her own belly. Keep your core tight, she was saying. Faith pulled the weight and felt the difference of how she had been trying it before compared to now. Forty pounds only felt a tiny bit heavier than the twenty-five she started with. “Nice,” she grunted when she put the weight down to work on the other arm. 

Drama did the same thing again, putting her into a more stable position, watching as she moved and guiding her elbow back in line. Faith stood up and took the towel offered from the other girl, nodding slightly. She rolled her shoulders with the slight burning sensation of just having worked them more thoroughly than usual. Her hand absently rubbed the opposite tricep, and she winced at the soreness in it. Drama turned to look at her with a furrowed brow. She reached out without thinking and took Faith’s arm in both hands, feeling for where there could be a problem in the muscle tissue. Faith tensed for a moment at the contact, but the hands stayed in place until she relaxed into the pressure. Drama worked along her upper arm slowly, and the brunette rolled her head closer, bringing her lips within an inch of the other girl’s face. “Thanks,” she said softly. Drama stopped long enough to look into those soulful brown eyes, long enough that she felt awkward holding her. She was holding the arm of this beautiful creature, staring longingly into her eyes, and she couldn’t pull herself away. “I didn’t think you cared,” Faith teased quietly. She smiled again, sweetly, and Drama felt herself starting to panic. 

She wasn’t good at this. She wasn’t good with people, with all the words they threw around so carelessly, and Faith triggered so much reaction so deeply within her that it was impossible to contain. Being alone was so much easier. Alone was cool and level and stable. It didn’t roll and move and have needs. She shook her head a fraction and ended the contact. Her hands drifted out and away, but Faith reached out and turned just enough to catch her gently, one hand lightly placed against her extended forearm. She could see the words bubbling inside of her, scratching to get out, but somehow Faith swallowed them back down. The quiet was better. She thought Faith could see that or feel that. She could read her somehow. Maybe that’s what came from two years of watching, of learning each other’s routines and patterns.

Faith’s hand drifted along the line of her forearm slowly, down to her elbow, along her upper arm to the detailed muscle of her shoulder. She watched her hand trail along Drama’s skin with fascination and then looked back at her shocked face, her utterly pale complexion. Neither of them had expected for her to allow this much contact. Drama took a deep breath and tried to stop the shaking that was overtaking her body. They should stop. This was a terrible idea. Faith’s right hand came up slowly to Drama’s left hip. She felt the grip, watched it happen. No sudden movements. Faith had paid attention to the last time they were close. It wasn’t this much, they’d never held on to one another in any real sense, but she had clearly figured out that quick movements were likely to set her off. Drama’s green eyes flicked up to Faith’s, trying to warn her. She didn’t want to hurt her. She didn’t want this to go wrong again, but she knew it was coming. She felt it rising with the panic to the back of her throat. It felt like a scream that needed to find its way out of her body, but that wasn’t possible. Sounds just didn’t happen anymore. It was as simple as that. They weren’t in her. But the pitching, roiling fury was. 

The brunette shook her head slowly, reassuringly. It was fine. Everything was okay. Her hands stayed in place, patient, willing to wait out whatever needed to happen. Faith felt the strain building up in her, felt the quaking of her body. She was incredibly strong. Anyone could see it. It was in the way she moved, how she owned the space around herself. Faith could only wish to have that kind of power. But it was volatile. It was an explosive kind of energy that lashed out and couldn’t be held. Her hands were resting against it, but she had no hope of containing it. This girl pressed near to her was incredible. Faith breathed her in. Musk and sweat and orange blossom. She was so many things tied together, and Faith wanted to feel all of them, wrap herself up in them. Kind of stupid, she reminded herself. Like hugging C4. But it didn’t matter. Faith hadn’t ever been good at picking someone who would be gentle or easy to love. She had a knack for trouble, and nothing else could satisfy her. But this woman, with her pale, smooth skin, golden hair flipped off to one side, boxy jawline, shoulders that could bench her own bodyweight, Faith didn’t want her to blow up. She wanted to find a way in, a way that wouldn’t leave her flat on her ass like every other time she had gotten even remotely close.

Faith looked into her eyes again, breathing intentionally, asking her to breathe with her with nothing more than the tilt of her head, and Drama followed her lead. She shook and she struggled, but she didn’t lash out for the first time ever. “Do you want me to let go?” Faith mouthed, less than a whisper. No, the girl shook her head just once. “Okay.” She took a risk and moved the fingers of her left hand slowly, stroking the skin of her shoulder affectionately. 

What was she doing? She had punched and kicked and clawed every time they’d been through this, and here she was encouraging Faith again. She could feel her body crumbling forward, desperate for the contact, but she couldn’t control what it would do next. It terrified her. And all of this work, all of the training, the focus, it only made her that much more deadly to be close to. But it was the only way she had found to quiet her own mind. Drugs made her scattered and twitchy. Alcohol heated up her anger like a bonfire. But pushing her muscles into obedience, running to ground her breathing, those were the things that gave her solace. And suddenly she felt that same buzzing at the base of her spine with the tender caress of Faith’s hand. It was the same sensation, like relaxation, like meditation. She followed Faith’s breathing, in and out. Her fingers let go of their clenched position in her fist. She felt her jaw slacken just a notch. In and out again. 

Faith blinked slowly. She could see the change taking over Drama’s face. Two years. Jesus, it had taken them two years to get this far. She wanted to swear out loud or jump up and high five the other girl, but she held her ground, still gently touching her skin, showing her the violence wasn’t in control. 

Drama’s arms jerked suddenly. It wasn’t a strike, but they pushed apart, making room around her, and Faith heard the slightest sound of air through her mouth, the gasp that she had done something wrong. She held firm, not moving. Wary, she checked Drama’s eyes. The fists were clenched again from the sudden movement. “It’s okay,” she whispered. Drama turned her head the tiniest amount from the effort of staying in this place, of finding comfort in discomfort, and she settled herself again. She had meant to reach out, to try to move normally, but her body wouldn’t do what it was told. She flexed her hands, pushed and pulled the muscles in her wrists. Faith could see how intense her concentration was. Her left hand trembled, but she reached out despite the difficulty and placed her palm against Faith’s chest, just below her collarbone. She felt the heat of her body, of both of their bodies so close, and her breath came shaky through her lungs.

She wanted to revel in the touch, but she would just have to relive the moment later tonight, alone in her apartment, once she had made it out of this engagement safely. She knew better than to trust that this was some amazing breakthrough, that Drama would suddenly find the way to be close to her physically from now on. That wasn’t realistic. But this… her hand touching her, this was new, and it was thrilling. It was different than the rough adjustments to her lifting form earlier, though those were new, too. The hand on her was so near to her neck, she had to worry, if only for a moment, that Drama might choke the life out of her if provoked. So don’t be an asshole, she reminded herself. Slow the fuck down and play by her rules.

Drama breathed harder, willing herself to be okay with all of it, and a strand of hair fell into her face. She blinked against it, her long eyelashes begging Faith to free them, begging to be kissed and fussed over. And just this once, she gave in. She released the woman’s hip and lifted her right hand to her face, gently sweeping the hair aside, trailing a single finger along her brow. Drama jumped in her own skin, grabbed Faith’s forearm in her powerful grip, and twisted until the brunette was on her knees and the scream was making its way out of her mouth. She let go in an instant and backed away in horror. Her skin was awash in ice, her heart beat wildly in her chest. Again. She had done this again. A haunting sound came from somewhere deep between her ribs, and Faith cringed through tear-filled eyes at the whispered sound. She ran from the gym and slammed through the door to the locker room.

“Fuck,” Faith swore as she collapsed onto the floor, holding her injured arm in the other hand. She let her head fall back to the padded bench behind her.


	11. Chapter 11

November 2012

There was an ice pack waiting for Faith at her desk. Drama wouldn’t make eye contact, but she felt her watching to see how bad the injury was. She shook it off and faked a smile, but the pain was severe enough for her to actually need the ice pack. She wrapped her arm in it and sat down at the computer. They had twenty minutes before their morning meeting with the Director. 

Pan sent Drama an instant message just as Faith had settled in at her computer. She opened the message request. 

P – It was nice to see you at Retro last week. Twice this year. Like it’s becoming a habit.  
D – Why is Claude such a bitch?  
P – She’s wired backwards. Needs a server reboot.  
D – I can boot it for her.

Drama actually smiled at the exchange. She glanced carefully toward Faith who had her eyes focused on her computer monitor. 

P – Good workout this morning? You were late at your desk again.  
D – Did M notice?  
P – Nope. But Claude did. She’s scheming.  
D – I’m not her business.  
P – She’s targeting F. 

Drama sighed and looked out the window. Pan wasn’t stupid. She was actually one of the smartest ones in her section, even if she was quiet and shy most of the time. Drama knew better. She was full of spark and energy and positivity, which was sort of adorable.

D – Faith will tear her face off. She should be careful.  
P – I don’t want you to get hurt.

She sat back at that comment, struck by how blatantly Pan was telling her that she cared. She hadn’t anticipated that. All this emotional shit was starting to pile up around her. She would have to go for a run tonight after work to burn off the vibrating energy in her body. The missed workout wasn’t helping. And she was still charged from her interaction with Faith. She knew it was going to result in something bad. Worse. Why did she keep letting it happen? A new message popped onto her screen from Faith. 

F – Ready? M in 5…4…3…2…

She looked up, and, as expected, the door opened. Director Murdock sailed in and leaned against the desk between them. They both rolled around from their work stations and looked up at her with quiet attention. “Faith? You’re up,” she pointed to the brunette. “Get your surveillance team ready to go. You have two operatives.”

Faith faked a smile. “Thanks, boss.”

“What’s our progress on the target’s location?” Murdock looked fiercely at Drama, who stared firmly back into her icy gaze. 

She shook her head slightly and put up two fingers and then four. She rubbed that hand along her face in frustration.

“We wait twenty-four more hours if we have to. We know she’s active again. She’ll break, and we’ll be ready when she’s out in the open. I’m approving overtime as needed from this point.” She looked meaningfully at them both in turn. “This is not an excuse to skip sleep. I need you both sharp.” She stood, buttoned her blazer, and left the room as sharply as she had entered. 

D – I’m sorry about this morning. Does it hurt?  
F – It was my fault. I pushed. Again.

Had she? Was that how it had happened? It was different in Drama’s mind. She was the one who had put the other woman on her knees in pain. 

F – Make it up to me.

Drama sat back from the computer and stared at Faith, who was smirking at her from the other side of the room. She was literally caught off her guard, and it showed. “Dinner,” Faith said out loud. The sound of it echoed in their ears. “Tonight.” 

Drama felt herself blush. That was so stupid. Like she was a girl to be asked out on a date. Well, second date maybe. She caught her own face frowning and smiling at the same time like an idiot, and she shook it off wildly, shook her head no. She looked at Faith like she was crazy. It was so clear. I just tried to twist your arm off, and you want me to go to dinner with you?

F – I’ll make it worth your time.

She felt like she needed to walk out of the room, like air would help, but she was afraid Faith would try to follow her. Her panic was for nothing, though. Faith got up first and made for the door. Before she left, she slid a piece of paper across the surface of the desk and under Drama’s keyboard.

2126 2nd Ave, 8pm, dress casual.

____________________

Well, she reasoned, standing outside the address that had been provided, it would have been rude after all this time not to at least try. Oddly, it was also just six blocks from her own building. It turned out to be a bar with pool tables and a wild collection of pinball games, and, being that it was a Friday night, it was packed. Great. This was an environment where she could really thrive, she laughed at herself. 

A shoulder drifted against hers from behind, and she nearly rounded on the person with her left fist before she saw that it was her. She tamed her tension and tried to smile, but it felt like she was just baring her teeth. “I knew you’d be here,” Faith smiled back. Now that she was jittery, it was even harder to face where they were going. “Nobody’s gonna touch you in there,” Faith reassured her as they walked across the street. “I come here all the time. It’s cool.”

Drama followed her lead heading inside. They cruised past the first three tables, loaded with guys out for a night of fun and beer. Faith had reserved the fourth table. She took the plastic tag off and signaled to the tall guy behind the bar. “Two beers, Jake.” She looked back at Drama. “IPA, right?” She nodded. Faith racked and broke, starting the game. 

Faith made sure to lean across the pool table at every opportunity, and Drama moved behind her to enjoy the view of her tight jeans, the way her shirt rode up and showed glimpses of exposed skin in the trendy lighting from the bar. But she also felt Faith watching her in the exact same way when it was her turn. Drama kept her body squared, tense. She wasn’t sure how to take the woman’s eyes on her.

They played three games in silence, moving around the other people in the building without a problem, just as Faith had promised. Drama settled back against the railing behind her and realized she was having a good time, that they had somehow found their way back again. She couldn’t understand how that kept happening. They would struggle and collide, stop talking, drift apart, and then she would look down and see Faith’s hand again, waiting patiently. Like she had never left. She gulped down the end of her beer. Faith cleared the table of stripes and won, but Drama didn’t care. She felt a smile on her face at the same moment her companion noticed it. “I thought you might enjoy this. Hungry?” 

She nodded again. 

They put their equipment away and sat up at the bar. Faith asked the bartender for nachos and more beer. If this was her idea of dinner, maybe it wasn’t so bad after all. Faith reached casually over the edge of the wooden bar surface for the notepad she had asked them to stash there. There was even a pencil. Beers and nachos arrived next. Faith started writing. ‘You should give me a try more often.’

She passed the pencil to Drama, who suddenly felt cold. She rubbed her hands together, nervous. Faith was making this easy. She knew better. This wasn’t ever easy for her, despite the fact that Faith was never giving up. She hadn’t in all this time, and tonight was no exception. ‘You’re a great cook.’ She chanced a real smile this time as she nudged the notepad back and grabbed a chip from the bowl.

Faith laughed at her joke, happiest that she’d gotten her to write anything at all. This week, of all weeks, had been brutal for them talking. Tonight she just needed an ounce of grace, and she couldn’t believe she was getting it. ‘I have a lot of talents.’ 

The gleam in her eye made Drama’s face drop in pure terror. She wasn’t leaving much to the imagination. She couldn’t pick the pencil back up. 

Handling it for her, Faith underlined her first message three times. ‘You should give me a try more often.’ “You’re having fun,” Faith spoke out loud. “I’ve seen you smiling. I think you almost laughed.” It was so easy for her to be casual. Drama curled her legs up against the barstool. She closed her eyes and tried to clear the thoughts rattling around. She felt a hand on her wrist and clenched to keep from overreacting. The pencil was back in her hand. “Get out of your fucking head and tell me,” Faith growled at her. 

Drama scowled at her. She looked at the pencil, rolled it between her fingers. ‘I’ve hurt you more than once.’

“I don’t care.”

‘I care.’ This time she underlined her own words. Faith looked into her eyes. Her own gaze narrowed, as though she was finally getting somewhere. 

“I want you to care.” Faith moved closer. “I want you to stay. I want you to work on this with me.” 

Drama’s chest heaved with her breaths. She refused to look away, which meant she had to face the emotion in Faith’s eyes, in the way her mouth moved around all of those words. The pencil felt heavy in her hand. She didn’t know what to write. She had always kept things brief to put everyone off. She would never have dared to engage anyone this much. But she had to acknowledge that Faith had always been able to get more out of her than anyone else had done.

Faith picked up her glass and drank, looking at the backlit glass shelves behind the bar. She couldn’t let her own impatience get in the way now. This was such a big step all on its own, and she shouldn’t push so damn hard. She took the pencil out of the blonde’s hand, making sure to brush against her fingers. Maybe it was the beer, but she didn’t recoil like she usually would. Faith moved the paper back under her hand and wrote, ‘What’s your favorite movie?’

Drama stared at it. She chewed her lip. ‘Terminator 2.’

Faith laughed and shook off the frustration. “For real? Is it all about Linda Hamilton doing those pullups in jail? Because that’s pretty hot.” 

Drama nodded, and the hint of a smile played at the edge of her mouth. She pointed the eraser end of the pencil at Faith with her eyebrows up. You?

“The original Phantom of the Opera, black and white. Lon Chaney.” She looked away, as though it was embarrassing. 

Drama reached out and grabbed her bare arm, asking her to turn back, pulling. She took a deep breath to steady herself. Faith’s eyes met hers. Why? At least Faith could read some of her face without needing the notepad for everything.

“It’s stupid,” Faith mumbled into her beer, but the girl beside her insisted. There it was again on her face, the question, why. Why that film or why look away, why be embarrassed, it was all the same question really. “I guess I’m just a romantic,” she shrugged. “It’s this horrible love story that’s doomed from the beginning, but she loves the beast in him anyway.”

Drama looked at the bar surface. It was gleaming with polish. Her face was so obvious. You think I’m the beast, the phantom, the terrible creature. And maybe she was right. Maybe that explained all of it.

“Jesus, Hayes. Just shut up about yourself for a goddamn minute,” Faith frowned at her, but something in it was playful, maybe even flirtatious. “I’m the phantom.” She pointed at her own chest. They stared at one another in the din of the bar for long enough that the bartender eventually came by again and asked Faith if she wanted another drink. “Water,” she answered. 

Drama lifted her chin at him, asking for the same. The rumors about Faith were clearly less than true, and Drama was beginning to see that Faith probably liked it better that way. She didn’t drink as much as she boasted, and she didn’t hang out in dive bars. Nobody in this place had even approached her like they did everywhere else, and Drama figured that she must be a regular here. Maybe it wasn’t as much fun as it looked to have every guy in a place hang off of your every move. Drama couldn’t really relate. She looked at Faith again and didn’t try to hide herself while she did it. This was a nice moment, and she needed something positive to believe in after everything they had been through.

“That’s her,” Faith gazed back at her with her head resting sideways on her hand, her elbow on the bar. 

Drama sat up and looked behind her, but there weren’t any other women nearby. She looked back at Faith with a question in her eyebrows.

Faith reached out with a single finger, pushing Drama’s shoulder with such slight pressure that she almost couldn’t feel it. And nothing in her worried, nothing lashed or jumped. “When you stop worrying about what I think or why I would be sitting next to a girl like you, when you just look at me and don’t hide… That’s the girl I asked out tonight.”

Something was swelling in her chest, and for the first time she could recall, it wasn’t laced with fear. She wanted to beam. She thought about looking away in embarrassment, but that would mean missing that look on Faith’s face, and right now that was the most important thing, and she couldn’t let it go. ‘I can’t look at you like this at work,’ she finally wrote. ‘I’d get nothing done.’ Faith lifted her head just slightly, reading her words, smiling at them. 

“Does it… do you have to hold it back…” Faith couldn’t quite figure out the words she needed. “You just look so calm now. Do you feel whatever that is? That thing that scares you?”

Her green eyes looked off into the distance for a beat, then back into Faith’s waiting gaze. She toyed with the pencil. ‘Maybe it’s asleep.’ She let the pencil fall to the polished surface and reached out, slipping off the barstool, standing closer than she had ever felt safe doing before. She ran her hand along the line of Faith’s hair, from just beside her eyebrow, over her temple, back behind her ear, and slowly, so very slowly brushing along the length of her neck. She stopped with gentle fingers placed at the top of Faith’s shoulder, not quite sure what to do with herself. 

“You don’t have to let go,” Faith whispered. Drama’s body was there, just in front of where she was sitting. The hand on her shoulder relaxed, and she could see the girl before her lean back casually with the bar at her back, her left leg drifting up to rest a foot on the brass rail. Whatever had changed inside of her, Faith fell in love with all of it. This was the same girl who moved through the gym with confidence, who brushed off a 10K run without effort, who was just as at home building complex data infrastructure as she was at losing a game of pool. There was some quality in her that lacked the ability to show pride, to see herself the way Faith did, and it made her more beautiful than Faith could really grasp. “Can I touch you?” she asked carefully. “I don’t want you to go. But it would be so good to feel you.”

Drama tried to nod, but she thought she was only staring until Faith actually moved. She stood up slowly, inches taking forever, until they were face to face. Drama let go of her shoulder and trailed her hand down her side until she felt the edge of her jeans, a beltloop, and she hooked her fingers through it, pulling at her gently. Faith asked with her eyes if they were still okay, if they were still safe. She pulled both of her hands up, waiting, wanting to rest them just under Drama’s neck. She leaned in more with each breath until their skin tingled at the near contact. She heard the air move in and out through Drama’s mouth as she leaned in all at once, pressing her hands and face against the top of her chest, falling and falling into her embrace. Drama’s heart was racing under her ribs, calling up dizziness and delight, and Faith could feel it pounding out its rhythm now under her ear.

At home that night, she would replay it in her mind over and over until she fell asleep with the memory of the scent of Drama’s skin under her lips. Her left hand had come up next, gathering Faith into her arms completely, resting so cautiously at the small of her back. Something simple and soft had been playing on the speakers around them, and in Faith’s mind she knew this might be the closest they ever came to actually dancing together, holding each other, and she listened so hard with each breath to record all of it in her memory to hold onto forever. Neither of them could recall how long they stood together or how they untangled themselves, and they stared into the other’s eyes for longer than was reasonable on that cold November night outside of the bar when they knew they would each walk in separate directions.

____________________

Pan held the leash lightly in her hand. Walking Moose was so easy, so relaxing, that she always picked up his leash when they met for a trail hike like this. It was Saturday, misty, cool and grey, like all of December would be. “But you had fun?”

Drama looked back at her and paused. She grinned. It was a grin she felt in her belly, spreading through her body.

“I can’t believe you actually went on a date!” Pan wanted to skip. She stepped up the path and around a sharp rock under the root of a huge tree. “That’s adorable.”

Drama pushed her shoulder back playfully with a soft hand. It wasn’t a date, she said with her eyes. ‘It was just a game of pool and some beer,’ she used some sign language. Pan was starting to pick it up.

“Did you kiss?” Pan was bouncing on the balls of her feet. She got a middle finger in her face for a reply, and Drama hurried up the trail in front of her. “Wait! Is that a yes or a no?” The finger was in front of her again. Pan hurried along to catch up. “So are you going to ask her out next?” She came up alongside her friend and they walked the level part of the trail a bit more slowly. Moose found some bushes to sniff, so they paused. 

She shook her head, but her eyes were far away, thinking of everything else that she would never say, not even to her best friend. She suddenly wanted a moment of quiet, alone, so that she could think, maybe replay the little moments of Faith touching her hand and her not lashing out, of them talking quietly into the night, of how easily she reached out to her, held her in her arms. Drama had never felt that kind of joy. She hadn’t slept much, but she had woken up feeling refreshed, like something enormous had changed.

She turned back to Pan and lifted one shoulder and grimaced. ‘Should I?’

“I think you can beat beer and nachos.” Pan yanked on the leash and they walked on. A few leaves overhead settled down through the branches and onto the path under their feet. “Ask her to a movie.”

Drama scrunched up her nose in disgust. ‘A movie theater? I hate theaters,’ she signed.

“Doofus,” Pan knocked into her shoulder. Drama wondered how it was that nothing Pan did ever seemed to trigger violence in her, that nothing about how they interacted ever resulted in ice packs and ibuprofen. “Ask her over to your place. You have a nice screen.”

She stopped dead in her tracks, and her palms started to sweat. She shook her head wildly once Pan turned to look at her. She wiped her palms on her jeans. ‘Nope. Nope. Not happening.’

“It’s a movie, Drama. Just a movie.”

Something in her broke free, and she moved her hands wildly. Pan could barely keep up. She signaled for her slow down, try again. Drama threw her hands up in exasperation. She mimed holding Pan’s hand, put two fingers to her lips, smoothed the hair off her shoulder, even though her hair wasn’t long enough to reach her shoulder. Pan got the picture. 

“I think you’re blowing this out of proportion. Watching a movie doesn’t mean making out. I mean,” Pan snickered, “it could if you want… Just try something easy. Something funny.”

Drama forced herself to walk again. She hunched her shoulders. She held up two fingers in the shape of a V.

“V for Vendetta is the wrong vibe. Too serious.”

She flipped her hair to the other side of her face in distraction. She set her jaw, stopped walking, pulled her arms up close to her body, and made a snapping motion with her mouth. 

Pan doubled over in hysterics. “Was that seriously a t-rex impression? Jurassic Park?” Drama smiled at the sound of her friend’s laughter. “Does she know you’re hilarious?”

Good question. Maybe? She let a huff escape her lips. ‘This is impossible.’

“I’ll find something. You text her.”

‘No way. I can’t ask her out with a text. Nobody does that.’

“You could send her flowers?” Pan tried, but they both knew Faith probably wasn’t the kind of girl who would want something so trite, and Drama really didn’t want to make a spectacle at work. “You need something a little more original.” They walked for a moment, Pan hedging. Drama could tell she was holding something back. She pulled at the girl’s sleeve to get her to stop and stared at her until she gave in. “Fine. I was just thinking I could talk to Petra. She might have an idea. She could ask Faith what she likes, or…”

Drama just stood still and shook her head no. But the more important part was that their conspiracy was out. ‘You and Petra set us up at the arcade. Didn’t you.’

“Hmm,” Pan stared at her blankly, “I’ll have to go home and look up what that means. My ASL isn’t that good yet.”

‘You’re a terrible liar.’

“Am not.” They walked on. “But that kiss she gave you was the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.” Pan did a ridiculous little happy dance in the middle of the trail.


	12. Chapter 12

December 2012

Drama wiped her sweaty palms on her pants for the tenth time in as many minutes. It was almost seven, and Scotty was finally packing things up to leave. Faith was out in the kitchenette pouring another cup of coffee. She could hear them talk, hear Faith explain that she had an ongoing surveillance op that she had to stick around for. Scotty understood and said goodnight. Faith slowly made her way back into the office, watching as the programmer put on his coat and walked out into the hallway. She set a second cup down next to Drama, made with just the right amount of cream and sugar. They sipped their coffee in silence for a while.

D – Are you actually busy?  
F – Who’s asking?  
D – Thought you might need a break. I brought a game.

Faith leaned around her monitor with a scowl. “A game?” Drama pulled out a pack of cards and held them up. She attempted a smile. Faith looked skeptical, but she rolled around to the corner. “This is new.” Drama pulled the cards out of the little box. They looked like regular playing cards, but Faith noticed she wasn’t shuffling them. “Am I about to discover that you’re some kind of card shark?”

Drama smiled nervously and thumbed through the deck looking for the right cards. She pulled five out and set them face down in front of Faith. She held a warning finger up, telling her she wasn’t allowed to look at them yet. She went back to the deck, looking for the first card she wanted to use. It had taken her a couple of days to get them printed and shipped, but it had been worth the trouble to get exactly what she needed. She set the first new card on the table, face up. 

Faith looked at it suspiciously. “What are the rules? Is it complicated, like go fish?”

Drama smirked at her. She pointed at her card, then at Faith, indicating she should read it. Then she pointed at the five cards, all face down. Faith could choose one of those to play next. 

So Faith picked up the card Drama had set down and read it out loud. “It says, Are you busy?” She looked up at the blonde. “That’s sort of vague.” Drama lifted her eyebrows and pointed at the face down cards again. Faith looked at them and turned a couple up to read them. Her mouth quirked into a smile. She picked up the third one and flipped it onto the desk. 

Drama looked at it. It said, “When?” So far, so good. She went back to the larger deck and sorted them again, finding the next card she needed. She set it down carefully.

Faith leaned forward and took the card, holding it close to her face to read it. She peeked one eye around and said, “Tomorrow night. Hm.” She had four cards left. She picked one up, made sure it was the right one, and put it down in front of Drama.

“For what?” Drama read. She had the next card ready. She handed it over.

“Am I winning this game?” Faith eyed her, leaning onto her hand with her elbow on the desk. Drama shrugged, completely noncommittal. Faith took the card and read it. “Movie.” She wanted to say yes. She wanted to tell her that tonight would be better. How about now? But Faith could see that Drama was trying to make this special, and that it was probably taking a lot of courage for her to put herself out there like this for her, which only made her want to say yes that much more. She looked through her remaining cards. She selected one and held it out in between two fingers, making Drama take it from her.

Drama watched Faith batt her eyelashes, and whether it was intentional or not, it was damned effective. She pulled the card from her fingers and flipped it over. “Where?” Okay. She could do this. Easy. Just slide this card over. The cards do the talking. She let the last card out of her hand and tried to keep her breathing level. 

Faith pulled the card closer. “I think I like this game,” she said, turning it over. “My couch? Oh,” she smiled suddenly. “Well, you really-” But Drama tapped on the cards Faith had left to play, reminding her of the rules. “Right,” she apologized. “Let me see what I have left.” She looked at the two remaining cards. She picked one and set it down between them. 

Drama could feel her heart pounding. She was sure Faith could hear it. There wasn’t any other sound. She lifted the card. “I cannot imagine a better way to spend an evening,” it said. She crinkled her nose up with the smile that overtook her. 

“Did you really think I was going to play…” Faith looked at the other card and read it out loud, “nah, make a better suggestion? Please!” She laughed, and Drama felt warm all over. Faith’s hand moved out onto the desk, shifting the cards aside. Her palm was up, and Drama could see the pale skin of the inside of her elbow just beside the deck she had set down. “So you’re actually inviting me home with you?”

Drama shrugged and nodded, still so scared about asking Faith on a date, especially one in her own apartment. But she extended her own hand and took Faith’s, lacing their fingers together. She was getting better at this, slowly.

“Hey, wait a second,” Faith looked at her suddenly. “What would I have gotten if I played the other card?”

Drama blushed and looked away. She didn’t really have a plan for that. She had been counting on Faith playing along and behaving herself, and she realized with a start just how lucky she’d gotten. 

“Well I know the rules now,” Faith said playfully. “Maybe next time we can play the version called ‘Hard to get’ instead of ‘Ridiculously easy.’” She watched Drama visibly gulp. “Oh,” her tone got a bit more serious, and Drama could feel her fingers tense. “You know I’m on call if anything comes up. Is that… do you still want me to come over?”

Yes. She nodded vigorously. Yes, yes, yes.

“So…” Faith smiled again, “it’s a date? With you and me… alone? On your couch?”

Drama inhaled sharply. Her hand jerked, and Faith caught her carefully, keeping her there gently. 

“I take it that means you’re nervous?” Faith asked. Drama nodded, closed her eyes, and tried to breathe. But Faith was right there, and one of her fingers slowly stroked the side of Drama’s hand affectionately. “Well then, it’s a good thing it’s just me coming over.” 

Drama reached over with her free hand and took the top card off the deck, flipping it over and setting it next to their combined hands. “I really like you.”

“Is this like a bonus round?” Faith looked at her. “Where are my cards?” She lunged for the pack before Drama could hold them away. They lost each other’s hands in the confusion, but Faith was giggling at her victory, and she thumbed through the cards looking for what was available. 

Drama tried to sign to her to stop, to let the deck go, but Faith completely ignored her in all of her playfulness, and now she was reading the cards Drama had had printed with a hopeful eye to another date in the future, maybe one with a slightly different agenda, certainly more advanced than where they were now. She sank down in her chair and bit three of the fingers on her left hand, ready to die from embarrassment. Faith had literally put all of her cards on the table for her, and she wanted nothing more than for the floor to open up and swallow her whole. 

As Faith looked through the cards, her smile changed into an incredibly intense look filled with wonder and amusement. “Um,” she cleared her throat. “There’s clearly a lot to this game that you didn’t explain the first time through.” She shifted the cards, reading each one slowly, knowing how uncomfortable Drama was in watching her. “You play often?”

Drama rolled her eyes in misery and pulled over her notepad. ‘I had them made. Only arrived today.’

Faith’s eyebrows shot up. “You had them made for… for this? For me?”

Drama nodded.

Faith cleared her throat again. “You had me fooled, Hayes. You’ve been playing shy all this time, and…” she flipped over another card, “damn…” She took a long breath. “I really want you to play this card.” She pushed it across the table and left her finger on it. 

The look on Faith’s face was very, very clear, and Drama found it hard to breathe all of a sudden. There was no way for her to know which card Faith had chosen, but she knew what was in that deck, and she wanted to cringe now at how bold she had been. But that look, that amazingly sexy look on Faith’s face, was saying all yeses back to her. Like it or not, the cards had worked. Faith had said yes to another date, yes to being alone with her, and now she was clearly saying yes to more. As much as she wanted to hide, she wanted to know what Faith had picked more than anything. She kept her eyes on the other woman and felt for the card, moving Faith’s finger out of the way so that she could lift it, turn it over, and read it. “You should put the cards down and take me to bed right now,” it said.

She couldn’t breathe. She was also smiling. And her hands were sweating. Faith slid her chair a little closer, still smiling in that disarming way that she had about her. She reached out and let her hand rest against the side of Drama’s arm. “So next,” Faith said calmly, “you’re gonna say something like, ‘Hey Faith, you sexy beast, I totally want that, too, which is why I printed that card for you to play.’” Drama ran her free hand over her face in embarrassment again. “But then you also say,” Faith went on, “’I’m scared that I’ll hurt you if you get too close.’ Right?”

Drama nodded again, relaxing into Faith’s touch, into the gentle way her hand was moving against her elbow, the tiniest stroke of her finger. 

“So then I say, yeah, I get that, but look,” and she lifted her head toward where they were touching, when Faith had initiated contact between them, where Drama wasn’t fighting or pushing her away. “You don’t have to play that card tomorrow night,” she said with a smile. “But maybe, you might want to in the not-too-distant future?”

Drama nodded, knowing she was admitting exactly what she wanted. And she wanted it now. She desperately did. But she also knew that there were limitations that she couldn’t get past in one fell swoop. She picked up the deck and looked through it again, finding the right cards she needed in that moment. She set them down one at a time for Faith to pick up. 

“Hmm, what do these say,” Faith looked at them. “Gorgeous? I like that one.” She picked up the next one. “Sexy Beast? You actually got one that I would say about myself!” she laughed out loud. Drama smiled broadly at her reaction, then handed her another. “Be patient,” Faith read, settling back down to gaze onto Drama’s eyes. “I’m working on that one. Oh, one more?” She took the last card from Drama’s hand. “I want you.” She looked up, eyes shining in the desk lights that were the only light left on the entire floor with the two of them in the office. It was very late for a Friday night. “You never said what time tomorrow. For a movie on your couch.”

Drama reached out to her and took her hand without shaking or having to breathe through the moment. She flipped it over and wrote on her palm with her other index finger a large number eight.

______________________________

Faith knocked on the apartment door. She heard a scuffle on the other side and braced herself. She was determined not to screw anything up tonight. She was at Drama’s place. She was going to be inside with her. Alone. Asking her out for beer had obviously worked. This was two nights of being together within a week. Maybe it really was a breakthrough this time. Faith took a deep breath to steady herself. The door opened, and a huge black nose stuck through to the outside at chest height. She stepped back in surprise, but Drama was right there with a hand gripping the collar of the huge animal. “Jesus, Hayes. I knew you had a dog, but…” Faith tried to make her way in the door around the beast, but it was wiggling from head to tail with excitement to see a visitor. “I didn’t know it was a polar bear.”

Drama laughed. Out loud. And Faith heard it. She handled the dog with so much affection that Faith couldn’t help but stare. Drama looked slightly embarrassed, like the dog was misbehaving, but Faith could see how laid back he really was. She held out a hand to him to help with introductions. Drama relaxed her grip and signaled for the other woman to make herself at home. They walked in together. Faith looked around at the space. Everything was organized, tidy, clean. It was perfect. It was controlled. She liked it, but it needed some personal touches. It wasn’t like she was good at that either. Drama put her hand on the door of the refrigerator with her eyebrows raised. 

“Yeah, beer is good.” Faith was finally able to relax back against the counter of the island in the kitchen. The dog sat down next to her wagging his tail slowly. She peeked at his collar and read the tag. “Moose? Well that’s appropriate.” Drama handed her a cold bottle with the cap already off. “Pyrenees?”

Drama nodded. She snapped her fingers, looked at the dog intensely, and pointed to the living room floor. He trotted off and laid down on the rug near the window overlooking the city lights. She had a beer in her own hand and motioned to the couch. They moved toward it slowly. 

Faith sat down first, feeling her way through the new space, uncertain just how much to relax in the home of the girl she had been pursuing for so long. She looked up and saw a full sized punching bag hanging in the far corner. “That’s fitting,” she smiled.

Drama shrugged. Was she blushing? She sat down on the other end of the couch, a lifetime away from the brunette. Pan had been wrong. This was a horrible idea. Faith was right here, in her apartment, in the space where she relaxed, where she walked around naked after a shower. She couldn’t control this. She chugged half the beer to get her heartrate back under control. 

“Can we just-” Faith started, setting her beer down on the low table in front of her, but she stopped and looked like she couldn’t find the words she wanted. The tension in the room was increasing with each passing minute. Great idea. Let’s watch a movie together. We should go back to the pool hall instead. We’ve made some progress there. She wished quietly for the deck of cards to help them out now.

It was as though Drama could hear her thoughts. She put her bottle down and tilted her head toward the punching bag. She blinked. 

Faith smiled with her whole body. This woman, this person who kept surprising her, knew her better than she thought possible. She sat forward and reached for the bottom of her loose sweater, pulling it off over her head. Thankfully she had thought to wear a thin tank underneath, but the bra was less than ideal. This one was for showing off, not for sweating. It would simply have to do in the moment. She felt Drama’s eyes on her as she moved, following the edges of her more exposed body, seeking out the curves and the suggestions the fabric allowed. She was standing, too, now. She unbuttoned the dark red shirt and pulled it off to lay it haphazardly on the arm of the couch. There was a dark grey bra on underneath, but nothing else. That was new. Her back was turned so that she could walk to the other side of the room, so Faith allowed herself to stare with abandon. She could see lines of deep scars down the ribs on one side of her back. The muscle tone beneath moved powerfully. Her movement suggested that she wasn’t ready to make eye contact, that she couldn’t acknowledge what they were doing just yet. 

Faith intended to play along. She stood and crossed the room, taking the gloves that were handed to her without looking into the face so close to hers. “You’ll hold?” she mumbled. She felt the nod more than she saw it. A hand came up suddenly, and Faith stopped. Drama pointed to her wrist, the one she had nearly sprained the week before in the gym. Her eyebrows furrowed. “I’m fine,” she brushed it off. “Let’s go.”

Strong arms wrapped around the back of the bag and she saw her feet braced. Faith chanced looking up, and she saw the green eyes looking back at her from their hiding place. She snugged up the gloves and stepped into position. She threw a series of three punches and a jab. The bag stayed steady. Faith moved again, leaned in, punched, ducked, moved, punched twice. The room warmed up against her skin. She felt flushed. Beer before a workout. So smart. Three more hits. There was something really cathartic about hitting the bag. She could pour all of her pent-up aggression into it and not worry about hurting the girl near her at all. 

Drama could see the energy pouring off the other woman. She was slowing down. She held up a finger and spun it. Switch out. Faith nodded, breathing hard. Drama tried not to focus on her heaving chest, on how the lacy black bra wasn’t really doing much to help her during her punches. Something inside of her smiled at it though, and she wanted to slap that out of herself. But the way Faith looked back at her with her mouth open to breathe, she could tell that was the desired effect. She took the gloves and cinched them up on herself. Faith stepped around the bag and braced it. Drama shook her head and smiled openly. That wouldn’t work. She moved over and kicked at Faith’s feet with her bare toes. Feet further back, brace with your core, she said with her eyes. I’ll kick the shit out of you if you don’t pay attention. Faith’s cheeks flushed, and Drama felt like she had won something back in this little game.

She took a tentative hit with her right hand, her weaker side, and Faith held the bag firm. Maybe a harder punch then? She leaned in with her shoulder lower. Over and over she tested it until she felt Faith settle in and anticipate the strikes. She opened up and lit into the bag with more force.

Faith felt the air punched out of her body with every hit. It was all she could do to hold onto the bag and keep herself upright once that girl got going. She was out for blood, and this bag was going to pay up. Her teeth jittered in her mouth when Drama’s knee came up into the bag. Her strikes were relentless, but something in her was shaking loose, and Faith liked how it looked on her. She finally had to put up a hand to ask for a break. 

“Christ, you’ve got some energy,” she wiped the sweat off her forehead and walked toward the kitchen. Drama pointed to the fridge, and Faith opened it to find cold bottles of water on the bottom right. She threw one across the room to the blonde. 

Drama leaned against the counter, her own chest heaving from exertion. She drained half the water bottle in one massive gulp. She could feel Faith’s eyes on her, on the exposed skin of her back, her stomach, everything she usually kept hidden. But it was too hot for her to put on a shirt after all of this, and she had known it would be like this. It wasn’t that big of an apartment. She jutted her chin for a moment at the brunette.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Faith answered. “I’ll recover.” She smiled. That smile was amazing. Drama had to look away from those rosy cheeks and those fucking dimples. 

Drama grabbed a pad of paper on the counter where it always waited for her. It was more for grocery lists than communication, but it would do. ‘Too tired for another round?’

Faith read the note and smiled with the bottle pressed to her lips. “Are you?”

She pulled the notepad back and took a chance. A huge chance. ‘I could go all night.’

The woman with the gorgeous brown hair tumbling over her shoulders leaned onto her elbows to read the message. Drama could see everything the tank top had concealed, and she made herself focus instead on her hands as they drifted to the edge of the notepad, her fingertips along the letters she had just written. Those sweet brown eyes looked up temptingly. “Are you flirting with me, Hayes?” 

She was the only one who called her by her last name, and something about it felt intimate. She didn’t mind. Drama wrapped her arms around her middle, tucking her chin, but she kept her eyes on Faith. Maybe. Her eyes held the tiniest bit of challenge in them. Can I?

“Okay,” she set the bottle down and walked back across to the living room. “But it’s fucking hot in here.” Her back was to Drama, so she glanced over her shoulder to make sure she was watching as she pulled the skin tight jeans down and off and threw them to the edge of the couch. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Close your mouth. Close your goddamn mouth, she told herself. Don’t drool. Don’t look like a moron in front of her. Keep your shit together, Hayes. She shook her head slightly, no I don’t mind. How could she? The high cut of the fabric showed off all of the curves of her hips. Drama clenched everything in her body to feel like she had some control of the moment, but it was clear that she was in uncharted territory. 

Faith pulled on the gloves, and Drama caught the slightly swinging punching bag, needing the cool vinyl of it against her own skin. Faith leaned in and hit the bag lower this time. She had been watching the other girl’s movements and had figured out her posture was too tall, too exposed. She was getting better. Drama did her best to stay focused, but her eyes drifted to those shoulders, the wrinkle of thin fabric against her ribs, the flushed skin of her thighs as she worked forward and back. The constant percussion of the bag against her sternum was a welcome way to stay grounded. When it stopped she took a deep breath. Faith was dripping with sweat. She had put everything into that round to impress Drama, but the impression left might not have been about her attack form. 

The gloves felt hot and tight on her hands now, and Drama struggled to cinch them right. But Faith was pushing her to get going, keep up the momentum. Hell of a movie night, she thought. This wasn’t what she had expected, but it fit, and her heart felt light for the safe engagement, for the bag between them that could take the brunt of her internal explosions. “Don’t hold back,” Faith breathed into the side of the bag. “Cards on the table. What you got in there?” 

Drama let the fire in her gut burn hot. It was true, she had still been holding back, afraid that what came from inside her was too dangerous. She ran the back of the glove over her forehead and motioned toward the floor. Faith looked down and saw a chain and a floor hook that it could fit into. When she didn’t move toward it, Drama pointed with the gloved hand. Tie it down. 

“You think I can’t take a hit?” Faith teased. Her flippant question was met with a stubbornness she knew she wouldn’t win out against. She knelt and chained the bag, then braced against it, beckoning with one hand. “Do it. Hit me as hard as you can, Hayes.”

She turned her right foot behind her and gripped her toes. Her left foot was on the mat. She set herself back on her hips, pelvis tucked, and swung out from her center. The bag exploded from the impact, and Faith felt herself kicked wildly back. She barely had time to recover before the next strike came. Another. Then another. Drama drove herself into the bag with a hot fury that had no containment. Faith couldn’t help but hear the sound of small grunts of air escaping her throat, more sound than she ever got out of the girl. She closed her eyes as the onslaught continued, hoping the chain would hold. It rattled and strained with each jolt. 

A quiet descended, and Faith opened her eyes, looking up into the calm, green eyes of her friend. There was a strand of hair caught up in her eyelashes. Her chest heaved up and down as she tried to recover, tried to cool the heat bursting from her body with as much air as she could gulp down. She swiped the glove across her face but couldn’t get the hair to move away. “Relax,” Faith whispered. She reached slowly around the bag and extended one finger just far enough to catch the stray hairs, pulling them gently aside. She tucked them behind the girl’s ear with all the tenderness she could summon. “Hit the bag. You can’t hurt me.” Her hand strayed down the side of Drama’s face, who stayed where she stood, still breathing, trying not to move. Faith moved her head around to see better, risking exposure. It was worth it. She extended the rest of her hand, openly, brushing her hot skin. Nothing happened.

Drama turned and walked away, back to the kitchen, back to the cool bottle of water. She tried to open it with her gloved hand, but she couldn’t get the damned thing to work. Her hands were saying it all. Fucking open. Fucking goddamn open! Patient hands reach around from behind her and took the bottle away, opened it, and handed it back. She looked at the other woman, took a drink. Nodded.

They each took a few minutes, drank, cooled down, stared at each other. It was so quiet Faith’s eardrums hurt from the pressure. “You were right about the chain.” She looked appreciatively across the granite surface. “Are you training to be a superhero or something?”

She picked up the pencil, now that the gloves were off, and scribbled. It slid across. ‘Tried to be a firefighter. But the radio.’ She snorted and smiled. 

Faith let her mouth fall open a fraction. “Seriously?” The blonde nodded and had to brush her loose hair out of her face again. The sweat had made a mess of her, and Faith couldn’t believe how attractive it was. “Firefighters are hot.” She wiggled her eyebrows. Drama ducked her head, rested her hands on her forehead, kept her arms on the cool counter. “You’re sexy as hell and I think you know it.” Faith turned sideways, took a long drink. “You should flaunt it a little.”

She motioned to Faith, to the line of her body, top to bottom, all the curves. You mean the way you do?

“Yeah,” Faith raised her eyebrows in response. “It works, right?” She wanted to blush and look away, hide her reaction, but Faith followed her everywhere she tried to look. She moved around the edge of the kitchen island, closer, dangerously close, just one corner between where they stood. “How about another round?” The way she moved her body was intoxicating. Drama couldn’t move her own, could barely breathe. Her body was still thrumming from the workout, from letting out all of that energy. Her shoulders were tired and sore like she’d had four beers, but they hadn’t finished the first round. “No bag this time.” Drama stood in place, terrified, as Faith sauntered around the corner and along her side of the island. Her hand moved slowly to where the blonde’s rested next to the notepad. “Do you trust me?”

Drama blinked, lowered her eyes. Yes.

Faith walked out into the middle of the open floor. Her arms hung at her sides. Her chest was still slick with sweat. She shook her hair back. “I’ll be the bag.”

Don’t be stupid, she signed with a huge ‘time out’ signal. She held a fist and opened the hand, dropped it. You’re not getting me to hit you on purpose.

“You only hit me when I touch you,” Faith reasoned. “I’m not moving. Just like the bag.” 

‘You want me to touch you,’ she motioned. Faith nodded. She spun a finger next to her temple.

“I’m not crazy. Just do it. Come over here. You can touch me anywhere. I won’t move.”

She put the bottle down and took a few steps to close the space between them. She blew the air in her lungs out through tight lips, making the lightest sound again. Every movement of her eyes was checking that Faith really wanted to do this. That this could work. She wanted it. Oh god did she ever want it. Her hands trembled just to think of what that skin felt like. Little moments of touch, of brushing against one another, had given her enough waking memories to tide her over for months at a time. She survived on those images in her mind. She breathed again and lifted her right hand, placing it just at the edge of Faith’s shoulder, the lightest touch.

“Right, tickling would be a bad idea, though, obviously,” she mouthed quietly, warning with a smile.

She let her fingers press in harder, closer, and her hand drifted down Faith’s arm, down to the wrist, to the edge of her hand, and along her long fingers. As promised, there was no movement. Drama took a halting half step, just another inch closer, to make it easier to use her left hand. She brushed the hair back from the woman’s neck, felt the damp heat of her skin. She hadn’t been this close to her since the night they played pool, and she had fantasized about that over and over until she felt raw with desire. Her eyes flicked back to Faith’s. 

“You can’t make me hit you,” Faith whispered. “I don’t care how hard you hit me, I won’t hit you back.” 

Drama leaned forward, tilting Faith’s head with her hand at the back of her neck until their foreheads met. She closed her eyes and just breathed. Her right hand pulled Faith’s arm forward, around her waist, into the small of her back. She let go and swung her arm around the woman’s shoulder, into an embrace that was light and tenuous. It was nerve-wracking, anxiety-ridden, and so amazing. She could have stayed like that all night, slept on her feet, and it still would have been the best night of her life.

“Can I move my right hand?” Faith asked. Drama nodded back, her eyes still open, green boring into Faith’s brown eyes steadily. “You’re not gonna snap my neck, are you?” she smiled as her hand inched toward Drama’s waistline. Her body jerked involuntarily, and Faith stopped. Her hand trembled.

She reached down and took Faith’s hand in her own, moved it toward her back until it rested near the other one, holding her comfortably. She pulled her head to the side, wrapped her own arm around Faith’s shoulder again, and settled her face into the hollow of the brunette’s neck. Perfectly safe. The words came to the back of her brain before she realized what she was feeling, but that was it. Faith was wrapped around her. She was being held, and it felt so good she wanted to cry.

“I feel a little like a posable Barbie doll,” Faith tried to make her laugh, tried to lighten the mood. Thankfully, Drama sniffed like there was a laugh in there somewhere. Faith could feel her shrug against her shoulder. “Stop apologizing all the time, you dork.” Drama lifted her head and smiled, a real, genuine smile. Faith still hadn’t moved. She looked into Drama’s eyes and felt herself melt a bit. Faith’s fingers desperately wanted to play with the skin of her back underneath them, to pull the woman closer in, soothe her, but she kept herself frozen in place. It reminded her of getting a tattoo. Slow and torturous.

Drama’s expression changed, got serious. She stared at those full lips in front of her and felt the force of Faith pulling her closer. She looked up for a brief moment, as if for permission. She knew that Faith wouldn’t initiate this. It was all her. It was completely up to her if she wanted it to happen.

And Faith stared on in utter fascination at what was happening. She liked to take bets, but this would have been impossible odds, even for her. Drama’s lips crashed into her own, soft, luscious, driven by passion. Faith tried her best to hold still, not to move, not even to kiss back as much as she would have liked, but it was impossible to keep her body from pulling the girl at least a fraction closer. Drama didn’t seem to mind. She dove into Faith’s mouth with teeth and tongue and zero restraint. 

They broke apart for air. Drama was panting. She pressed her forehead into Faith’s again, hoping her heart would calm down. Her fingernails dug into the back of the woman’s neck. Her body wouldn’t let her release the contact.

“Why didn’t you ask me over for a movie like a year ago, Hayes?” Faith joked. Her fingers were gently stroking the line of Drama’s spine, but nothing bad had happened from it. Nothing yet anyway. “Should I,” her eyebrows scrunched up at the thought, “should I call you Drama, like everyone else does?”

She grazed her lips against Faith’s slowly. No. Her tongue played with the lower edge of Faith’s bottom lip. She tilted her head left and looked down into those deep brown eyes again. 

“It’s not enough to call you Hayes. That’s like work talk.” Faith grinned. “This ain’t work.” She opened her hand and pressed a palm to the woman’s back in her grip. She felt her tense and breathe through it with Faith’s breathing. Faith nudged her closer. “No room to wind up when I’m this close,” she teased. Drama smoothed her hands across the top of Faith’s upper back, holding her. She knew it couldn’t last, but this moment was pure magic. She had fought and kicked and punched, and here was this gorgeous creature holding her in her arms, wanting her, even with her eyes open to all that Drama was. Faith moved her head into Drama’s neck, chancing a kiss just below her ear. More tension, more breathing. “Can I call you… Andromeda?” she breathed.

The nails in Faith’s shoulders dug in harder, and her back arched at the feel of Faith’s lips on her neck. Yes, she nodded. Yes please.

The world suddenly rushed back into motion. Faith’s phone rang from the pocket of the pants that were slung onto the arm of the couch nearby. They both twitched. Faith stopped all motion at once. “It’s fine. We’re good,” she whispered reassuringly. She could feel Drama’s body go stiff, terrified as to how they would break this contact now that they were so far in. “Breathe with me.” She took a few deep breaths and kept her hand on Drama’s back, feeling it expand and contract. “I’m just gonna let go really slow. Okay? Hands out to the side, nothing risky. Right?”

Drama nodded into Faith’s neck. Simple. So simple. They could just let go and move away, and no one would get hurt. It would be fine. The phone went off and she clenched, right when Faith released her palm from her back. The muscles in her arms went into overdrive. She fought them, and Faith’s neck got stuck in the tug-o-war. 

“Breathe, dammit,” Faith struggled. “Andromeda,” she begged. 

The name calmed her. She couldn’t understand it. Her body relaxed one ounce. The shaking slowed. She took a breath, just like Faith had asked. Her arms stopped their struggle.

“Kiss me,” Faith whispered. “Kiss me and let go with your hands. I won’t move. I swear to god. I won’t fucking move. Ignore the phone and just kiss me.”

Drama leaned in and found her lips, breathed in the scent of this incredible woman, and let her tongue wander into her open mouth. Forget the phone. Just kiss her. She tangled her hands into Faith’s hair, pulling it gently. Right. Gotta let go. She said to let go. I can do this. She yanked her hands free and took a huge step back, nearly falling as her feet left the edge of the living room rug. The air around her was suddenly cold, alone, stark, and everywhere. 

Faith sat back on her heels and managed to stay upright. She was nodding. They did it. She didn’t get hurt this time. Holy fuck, she wasn’t going to walk away with a broken rib or a black eye. Wonders literally never ceased. She ran her hand over her face, trying to take in everything that had just happened. Her brain was scrambled eggs, and her body was screaming at her to get back in there, to get closer again. How many nights had she gone to bed alone, thinking about her, wanting to touch her, having nothing but herself to resolve all that pent-up hormonal energy? Did Andromeda do that, too? Faith tried to reign her brain in. Not now. Fantasize later. She fumbled through her pants until she could get the phone out of the pocket. She read the text message.

Target on the move. 

Well wasn’t that just, “Fuck!” Faith shouted, clearly pissed beyond belief. “Jesus, I hate that woman!” She threw the phone angrily onto the couch. Drama swept her hand aside with a question on her face. “She broke off from the pack. I have to go.” Faith yanked her pants on over her legs, hopping on each foot to pull them higher. “I need you to track her phone.” She rushed to the counter and grabbed the pad of paper. Drama watched her scribble a note. “This is the other number, just in case we lose her.” She dropped the pencil and turned around to face the stunned woman behind her. “I’m not-” she struggled to say the right thing. Her hands felt useless. She took a step closer, but the rush of movement was too much for Drama who brought her hands up, ready to strike. Faith could see the emotional pain that caused, so she stopped dead in her tracks. “I’d stay if-”

No, she was shaking her head, not able to make eye contact. I know you have to go. I have to work, too. She worked her hands open and closed, forcing the muscles to relax, until she could let her arms drift down by her sides. They had come so far, and now they were walking away before she felt ready for it to end. The unfairness burned behind her eyes.

Faith stepped past her lightly and picked up her black sweater. She slipped it on quickly, ready to walk back out the door and into the cold night air. She turned her face to bring her eyes level with Drama’s, who looked up at her slowly. They blinked, and she sighed heavily. Drama closed her eyes and felt the door closing. She was alone again.


	13. Chapter 13

December 2012

Monday morning came and went, and Faith refused to talk or even look at the other woman in her office all day. The tension in her body made her movements jerky, uncoordinated. Twice she knocked things over. Everything went flying from the old mug they both used as a pen holder when she reached for a file on the desk. Drama helped her clean it up, but Faith didn’t say a word. She stormed off right after that and didn’t return until well after lunch.

The deadline for Rosenberg to appear was this evening, but Drama felt fairly certain she wouldn’t show. She held things down in the office and worked quietly on her own until the end of the day. She was supposed to wrap things up and meet Pan for takeout on the way home. 

P – Can Petra tag along?

She sighed slowly at the message on her screen.

D – Sure.  
P – And maybe Scotty?  
D – WTF?  
P – I might have mentioned it at lunch.  
D – Is this turning into a party? I hate crowds.  
P – Mac has a date with his girlfriend. So maybe only Boston also.

Where was that fucking middle finger emoji?

D – Whatever. Ready in 15?  
P – Shit. Look up. Is that her?

Drama instantly jumped from her chair and looked through the window dividing her office from the main workroom. Faith was there. And she had a redhead by the elbow, leading her through the workroom to the Director’s meeting room. Jesus, she looked too young to be the one they had been tracking. No way. But Scotty and Petra looked back at her through the glass with something in their eyes like reverence. Holy fuck. It really was her. Well there was no leaving for dinner at this point. 

She followed the action and signed to Pan through the window, ‘What are they doing in there?’

Pan looked at the main door and ducked, sparing a quick glance at Drama. Director Murdock walked through with a brisk pace, into the doors of the meeting room. Drama couldn’t see inside. That room had mirrored glass. She tied up what she needed on her computer and shut everything down, then marched into the workroom to hear the gossip with everyone else. 

“I cannot believe I talked to her,” Scotty sat in his chair and grinned like an idiot. He looked up at Drama. “It’s her for sure. And definitely a her.”

Drama scrunched up her face and shook her head. She picked up a pen and scribbled on a pad on Scotty’s desk. ‘Too young. Too small.’

Claude rolled over in her chair and read the note, too. “Jealous?” she looked up spitefully.

Drama snorted and walked over to sit next to Pan. She used one hand to spell out B-I-T-C-H nice and slow, making sure Claude watched every letter.

Pan laughed quietly, but Petra rolled over and started whispering to them both, “Something is up. Did you see that amp surge on the backup systems?” She pointed to Pan to switch her monitor, which she did, and they all looked at it.

‘It’s nothing,’ signed Drama. ‘Maintenance is Monday nights.’

“Not until 9 PM,” Pan frowned at her.

All three of them looked back at the monitor with raised eyebrows. At that same moment, Murdock swung through the door back into the workroom with the new recruit right on her heels. They talked as they marched through the room, and half a dozen heads watched them go. Faith stopped outside the door, looked at Drama for half a second, then disappeared out the side door without a word. 

Drama ran her fingers through her hair. ‘She warned me that Rosenberg could have a plot if we picked her up,’ she signed to Pan. 

Pan followed her slowly and asked her to repeat a few words. She got the picture and started fishing through the computer, looking for anything else out of place. “If she’s in here, then it has to be something remote, if there’s anything. She hasn’t even touched a computer in this place.”

“What are you looking for?” Claude came over and put her hands on the desk, watching Pan work through all of their systems. “You think that one is up to something?” Pan nodded up at her. “Well I could have told you that, jackasses.”

“But seriously, Claude, what can she do if she’s following Phe all over the building?”

“I have to go,” Petra whispered suddenly. She and Pan shared a look, Pan nodded, and Petra jumped out of her chair and ran from the room.

Fifteen minutes later, the lights went out, Scotty and Boston both yelped as their screens went dark, and Claude held out her hand for the money owed to her in the betting pool. “Yep. I knew it wouldn’t take her thirty minutes to deploy whatever she had,” she snarked as Drama and Pan both put five dollar bills into her outstretched hand. “Drama,” she raised her eyebrows without looking at her coworker, “be a good boy and go reset the backup systems for us.”

Drama stood up with a completely passive face and pushed Claude back by the shoulders with both hands. She made sure to do it lightly enough to keep the other girl on her feet, but her message came through clear enough. She kept walking past the gawking looks of everyone in the room and made for the service door to the stairs. Fuck all of you, her posture said. 

“Jesus, Claude!” Mac shouted. “It’s no wonder you have no friends.” He turned his back on her, and everyone else did the same.

“Just saying what everyone is thinking anyway,” Claude mumbled defensively.

Drama took the stairs three and four at a time as she descended seven flights to the closest sub-system breaker panel. She slipped the knife out of her back pocket and opened the panel cover. Half of the electrical inside was fried. Mother fucker. She fished around for a moment, looking for the wires she needed. Once she had them in her hand, she yanked them loose and cut them with the knife blade. She stripped each end, crossed them, and tied them together. The sparks stung her skin, but she worked away without regard to the pain. That was a start. She closed the panel and took off at a run again. They needed to get those systems back up and running right away.

She stopped at level twelve and hit the door to the server room. The emergency lights were on in the stairwell now, and her keycard didn’t work. She cursed mentally and pulled the card holder out of her pocket, flipped it open, and took out the thin key from inside. She unlocked the door and almost gasped at how dark the room was. It was usually lit with a thousand blinking lights, most of them blue, but Drama was forced to put out her hands and feel her way through the stacks. She found the first set of servers in their cabinets and rolled the service trays out. They were all dead. Not good. She ran her fingers along the back and staged the reset switches to their off positions. She repeated this on the full line in that cabinet, and then ran back out to the stairwell. Jesus, she swore. I’ll have to reset the other two backup lines to get those servers back online, and they’ll still have to reboot. She took a breath and started running.

Three resets later, she was headed back up, and the air in her throat was making her desperately thirsty from all the running. She made it back to the server room and finished the manual reboot process. That line of servers started to blink, and the room came back to life just a little. She smiled at her quick work. It had only taken her thirteen minutes. She wondered absently if Claude had a betting pool on her speed, and she hoped that she had blown her bet right off the fucking paper. She pulled her phone out of her back pocket and sent a quick text to Pan. ‘Servers in reboot stage.’

Pan texted back immediately, ‘Trouble, get up here.’

Drama kicked the server cabinet out of the way and thundered out of the room and up the stairs. She was so close to making it back to the workroom, but something brought her to a complete halt. Voices. She looked up. The next flight was still dark, but she could see two people moving in the shadows. She flexed her shoulders and scowled. Maybe all that boxing was about to pay off. If that new girl thought she could shut down this operation and threaten her friends, Drama intended to revise her state of mind, and it would start with these two. She launched herself up the stairs and rushed behind the two characters who never heard her coming for all their talking. Her hands were on them in an instant, and she pinned the male to the wall with a forearm. The other one screamed in shock, but Drama grabbed her in a strong fist and pulled her close enough that she could smell her shampoo. The look in Drama’s eyes was dangerous, and the mysterious woman knew there was no struggling. 

She put her hands up. “Just let Drew go,” she pleaded. 

Drama threw her gaze at the man under her arm. He grunted, and she released him enough that he could breathe again. “Christ!” he shouted. “Are you okay, Tara?” 

Drama didn’t wait for an answer. She needed to get up to Pan and the others. She kept her grip on the two intruders and hauled them laboriously up the stairs with her. They were desperate for air when she finally pushed them through the service door into the shocked faces of all of her coworkers. Drama looked where their eyes pointed and saw a dark haired woman holding a gun to their heads. She relaxed her grip on the two from the stairs slowly, dropping her hands with as little motion as possible. 

She heard Faith’s gravelly voice before she could find her in the half light of the workroom. “Chips are on the table now, Red,” she smirked at the slim girl sitting with the programmers, right next to Petra. Drama wanted to launch herself at all of them, but she didn’t dare to move a muscle. 

“Tara?” the redhead spoke up, passion heavy in her voice. The blonde next to Drama tensed and reached out a hand into the air. 

Murdock interrupted all of them and somehow convinced the dark woman with the gun to lower her weapon so that they could talk. Drama swept her eyes around the room. Everyone was so tense. And there was Faith, lounging in the corner, scowling angrily. She was fuming.

The redhead ran over to the woman standing next to Drama and pulled her close. Drama stared at them with wide eyes. Cute couple. Drama figured they were going nowhere anytime soon, right when the blonde looked directly at her. There was something in that look that pulled her in gently. She liked her. She was okay. The redhead? That remained to be seen. 

There was so much activity in the room, so much talking, that Drama had a hard time focusing. The noise level made her head buzz. She looked up and saw Faith arguing with the two women in the corner again. It was funny how much alike all three of them were. The blonde one with messy hair even called Faith a sister. Hang on, were they really siblings? She considered it for a moment. It was certainly possible. That would at least explain why Faith had gotten so riled up about this entire job. It wasn’t just the redhead. This was clearly a much bigger thing.

“Faith,” Murdock took authority of the room again, as though she had never really lost it, “go with Drama to levels four and sixteen to restore the backup systems. I won’t have us vulnerable to any further issues while we recover. And,” she added directly to Faith, “dispatch security teams to the field agents. I will have no additional interference in on-going work tonight.” 

Drama spared a glance at Pan on her way out, but she noticed that Willow was there again, directing them to work on something. Maybe she was going to stay and fix what she had broken. Faith was ahead of her by enough that she almost had to run to catch up. 

Faith wouldn’t say a word, even once they were clear of the workroom. Drama tried to catch her eye, but nothing seemed to work. They took the stairs at full speed. They hit the bottom on the basement level with legs shaking, thirty-nine flights later, both knowing that Murdock wasn’t aware of the breaker panel there that would need to be reset before the other work could happen. Drama unlocked the door and pulled out her flashlight to see in the dark. The remaining backup systems would be on a twenty minute reset cycle once they powered this up. She heard Faith in the doorway calling for the on-call team to perform a building sweep and start the cleanup work that was needed. The irritation in her voice was burning into every word. One of the building security agents ran through the hallway, asking where she wanted him to be dispatched. “Get to sixteen. Make sure we don’t have any more burn-outs. We know they hit us in three points, but there could still be more.”

“Sure,” Drama could hear him starting to question Faith, “but we have confirmation that backup power two is live, so maybe-” but he never got to finish. 

“I didn’t ask for your opinion! Get your ass up to sixteen and do a goddamn sweep!” 

Drama heard the man run off at top speed. Technically, he was right, but, also technically, Faith was his superior, so he shouldn’t have questioned her. And super technically, nobody ever got away with questioning Faith, which made Drama wonder if he was new. She heard Faith kick the bottom of the metal security door. 

“Fucking stupid,” she was cursing loudly. “Nothing but goddamn idiots, and stupid fucking Rosenberg blows all our shit up. I fucking told her this would happen.” Drama found the correct breakers to reset, and the emergency lighting came back on around them. She clicked her flashlight off, and looked over at Faith, who was still fuming. “Thank you!” she shouted. “At least someone knows what the hell they’re doing around this goddamn place.”

Drama stared blankly back at her, not quite sure how to handle this much anger in the woman. But Faith was still pacing, still ranting. Drama walked through the room to the door and shut it loudly. Faith glared at her and she glared back. ‘What the hell is wrong with you?’ she signed.

Faith pointed a finger at her. “Do not start with me right now. I’m fucking pissed, and I’m allowed to get angry sometimes. Okay?” Her eyes were a little bit wild. “You saw that bullshit with Phe upstairs. How she just pandered to Rosenberg. Like she’s the most amazing thing ever. And it’s always like that with that little-”

Drama held up a warning hand. Don’t say it. Don’t go there. 

But Faith stepped up to her, facing her angrily. “No, you don’t get to cut me off. I will not have you try to-”

Drama closed the gap between them so suddenly that Faith’s eyes went wide. Her hands were out in a flash, and Faith felt the wall behind her before she even realized that Drama had her pinned by both shoulders against it. Drama stared into her defiant eyes steadily, waiting for her to realize how close they were, how they were breathing against each other. She took both of Faith’s hands and pressed them into the cinder block wall beside her head. 

Faith wanted to fight back, to struggle, but Drama was looking at her with such cool eyes that some of it started to drain right out of her, and that enraged her all the more. She wanted to be angry, she was furious, and it felt good to lash out. But just as she started to tell her off, Drama leaned in and kissed her fiercely, pressing her bodyweight against Faith with one thigh in between her legs, heaving chests battling each other for air. Her lips were demanding, and the more Faith tried to argue, the harder she drove into her, until Faith couldn’t contain her fury anymore and kissed her back with such intensity that Drama nearly released the wrists under her grip. She pulled away briefly and rested their foreheads together, fully expecting Faith to keep yelling. Instead, she mumbled, “Damn.” Her breath came shaky and uneven, and Drama suddenly worried that she’d pushed too hard, that she might actually be crushing Faith against the wall, until he realized how hard Faith was pressing back against her thigh. She let out a moan of utter frustration. “Ffffuck,” she finally managed. “I try to be patient and slow for two years,” she nearly spat the words out, “and all I had to do was yell at you?” She was incredulous, but she started laughing into Drama’s neck, resting her head against the blonde’s collarbone. 

Drama smiled into her hair, brushing her lips against the side of Faith’s face. She relaxed their combined hands slightly, letting them slide down the wall a little. 

“Oh, come on,” Faith moaned again. “You’re gonna pin me against a wall and breathe on my neck like that with your leg… right… there…” She lifted her head and kissed her, pulling on her bottom lip. “I don’t think you really wanna finish this here, do you?”

Drama let go with her hands and dropped them to Faith’s hips, gripping them and feeling so much need for her that she almost didn’t want to leave. Faith was right. She hadn’t meant to push it so far in the basement of the building they worked in, but something in her brain had simply let go, and here they were, desperately clinging to each other in a dimly lit utility room, hearts racing, breathing into each other’s mouths. She leaned in once more, biting gently into the soft flesh just below Faith’s ear.

“I’m pretty sure,” Faith panted with some effort, “you’re asking me to go home with you.” Drama nodded, still unwilling to back away. Something nagging in the back of her mind told her it might not be so easy to get back to this if she let go. “It’s okay,” Faith reassured her, as though she knew exactly what was going on in her head. “Your place is like ten minutes away. We can do this.” Drama nodded, still keeping her lips against Faith’s neck, drinking in as much of her as she could. She suddenly felt Faith’s hands under her shirt, running up her back, pulling their bodies tighter against each other. “But, you know,” Faith whispered, “just in case…” Her hands wrapped around Drama’s ribs on each side, gripping her abs forcefully, finding her hips under the edge of her pants. Drama inhaled sharply at the contact, but every muscle in her body just worked to press them closer together. “It’s kind of amazing to get to touch you,” Faith kissed her again.

They slowly moved out from the wall, looking into each other’s eyes, and let go just enough. Drama picked up Faith’s hand, opened the door, and almost ran with her into the parking garage and into her car. The drive to her apartment was a hazy dream-state. She wasn’t even sure either of them had put on seat belts. She slipped the key into the lock of her door, and reality hit her squarely. Moose was there waiting, staring up at her. 

Shit. She put her head into her hands for a second, looking sideways at Faith. ‘I have to take him out,’ she signed. ‘Just give me like ten minutes?’

Faith followed her hands and looked at the whining dog. She was starting to wonder if it was possible to learn sign language through osmosis. “It’s cool, I get it.” 

She held up ten fingers, making sure Faith understood. Then she reached for her shirt, gripped it in her fist, and pulled Faith into another kiss.

“Ten minutes,” Faith said lightly into her lips as they moved apart. The door closed, and she found herself alone in the apartment. She slipped her jacket off, left her shoes by the door, and wandered around in the space, taking her time. She turned on a few lights, let her fingers trail along the edge of the bookcase in the living room which contained a healthy collection of music on vinyl. But no photos, no pictures of anything. She walked into the kitchen and checked the fridge for amusement. “No shockers there. Kale, kale, more kale.” She grinned. This girl could supply an entire grocery store with all the vegetables competing for space in her kitchen. She looked around and caught sight of the bedroom door. Maybe that would have something more interesting. She walked through the living room and pushed through the door on the far side, turning on more lights. The bedroom was very different than the rest of the apartment. Her eyes wandered over the varied surfaces, hardback book bindings on shelves, a collection of guitars hanging on the wall, photographs of mountains in frames, more books. The bed was perfectly made, covered in a plush dark blue duvet and cream colored flannel sheets. Faith opened the closet door and stepped inside, surrounding herself with the feel and scent of the girl she had followed so closely for so long. She glanced up at the shelf above the hanging clothes and saw a small, light blue backpack resting there. Her hand drifted across it. She pulled it out a few inches and saw that it was covered in My Little Pony cartoon images, and it was clearly pretty old. It was the one thing in the entire apartment that actually felt out of place, and she stared at it in fascination for a long time, too unsure to pull it down or open it.

The door to the apartment opened, so she walked back out of the bedroom. Drama was there feeding the dog, and two bags were on the island counter in the kitchen. She looked up and smiled at Faith, beckoning her over. Faith sat down and pulled the paper bag over that Drama had pushed her direction, finding a cheeseburger with extra bacon inside. They sat down side by side. “I wasn’t expecting dinner,” Faith looked at her, suddenly feeling an odd nervous energy building inside of her. 

Drama pulled her own dinner out and grabbed the notepad on the counter, writing with pencil, ‘It’s been a long day.’

“You didn’t have enough kale in your fridge, so you bought more?” Faith looked down into the bowl Drama was eating out of. Brown rice, steak, but definitely a lot of green stuff. “Sometimes you’re so healthy it’s painful.”

‘Did you find all of my secrets while I was out?’ Drama’s eyes pierced into her, but Faith could tell she was light hearted about it. 

Faith shrugged. “Well I didn’t know you played guitar until now.” Drama smiled in a shy way and looked away. “I feel like there’s a lot I don’t know. You don’t even have any photos or anything,” she looked around. 

The look on Drama’s face was distant. ‘Just don’t have any,’ she wrote. She pushed her food away. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea. Everything had been easy before they left work. Now that they were here, she felt tense. They had been so close, Faith’s hands had been all over her, and it had felt so damn good. The countertop felt cold under her hands, and she could still see the lights on in the bedroom. 

Faith could feel her tensing next to her, and her own body was overreacting, too. There had to be something between their normal terrified mode and what had happened less than an hour before, but the minutes ticking by seemed to drive them further apart. She thought about getting up, taking off a few layers, trying to tempt the other girl into the bedroom and out of her shyness, but she didn’t think it would work. And a part of her kept going back to the sensation of Drama taking control, driving her hard into that concrete wall. She looked over when Drama pushed the notepad toward her, having missed completely that she was writing anything, and now she was cleaning things up and leaving the kitchen while Faith read her note.

‘It’s late. Let’s go to bed. Nothing has to happen, but I want to hold you and be close to you. I want you to stay.’

Faith looked up and turned toward the bedroom door. She could see the other girl just beyond it, already taking off her shirt and settling in for the night. She got up and followed, closing the door behind her. She watched Drama pull off her pants, remove her bra, and she found herself staring at the lines of scars down her back again. She walked over and almost reached out without saying anything, catching herself at the last second. Drama felt her there and turned just enough to see her, feeling more than a little exposed after removing everything she had been wearing. “Can I…” Faith managed to ask. Drama blinked and nodded a little, and she braced her body, held her breath. But the touch from Faith was so warm and so comforting that she released a shaky breath and relaxed her hands. Faith let her fingers trace the lines of those scars, from her shoulder down to the top of her hip to where they disappeared under the edge of her boy-shorts, the only thing left between them. “Does it… hurt at all?” Drama shook her head, no, and watched Faith’s eyes move over her. She moved her hands slowly over the blonde’s hips, stepping closer, until Drama could feel her breath on her back, Faith’s long hair drifting up against her skin. Faith’s lips were there, just at the edge of her shoulder, right at the base of her neck, and those hands kept moving, slowly and with a firm pressure, until they wrapped around her belly, pulling them together into an embrace that took Drama’s breath away. “You don’t wanna throw a punch at me?”

No, she shook her head. She turned around, praying Faith would keep her hands on her, and reached down to unfasten her pants. But Faith let go, and Drama had to open her eyes to see if she was scared, to see why she couldn’t feel her anymore. She was still there, though, all arms and shirt and hair everywhere as she pulled off layers. Drama’s hands were still pulling at her jeans, but she couldn’t figure out what to do, and the less she tried to focus, the easier everything felt. The pants gave way under her hands, though she wasn’t sure whether it was her work or Faith’s that had done it. But they were off and out of the way, and so she bent down a little, bracing Faith’s back with her strong arms, and lifted her up and onto her own hips. A small sound escaped Faith’s mouth, like she hadn’t expected the move, but she wrapped herself around Drama so willingly that the blonde was able to move right up to the edge of the bed and gently lower her in. 

She followed in an uncoordinated crush of arms and legs and tangled covers, and Faith giggled at their clumsiness. But Drama was right there, wrapped around her, pressed against her, skin to mostly skin, lips and tongue kissing hard and showing her just how much need and longing there was to it all. It took Faith’s breath away to feel so much passion all at once, after so much repression, so much worry over what would happen if they tried, if she moved in the wrong way or if Drama felt threatened. But jesus, her hands were everywhere, and it was so easy to get lost in all of that heat and desire. “We should…” she tried, but there was a hand behind her back pulling her in, and Andromeda’s teeth were on her stomach. Faith tangled her fingers in Drama’s hair, falling back into the pillows, and she wasn’t sure how they had actually made it into the bed as well as they had. She tried again, a little firmer this time, “Seriously, Andromeda,” she breathed, but she was on top of her, and that thigh was pressing into her again, and all she could get herself to do was moan into her neck and reach for those incredible arms surrounding her. “Hayes,” she whispered into her ear, “you gotta slow down for a second. Just for a second.”

Drama pulled back with a look of worry. She dropped to the side and tried to sign to Faith, but it was clear she couldn’t understand her. She motioned toward the kitchen, trying to say she needed paper or something, and she frantically checked Faith’s face to see what was wrong.

“No,” Faith said quickly, “I’m fine. This is fine. It’s,” she grinned. “It’s way better than fine. I just…” she bit her lip, and Drama wanted to dive right back in, but she brushed the hair out of her eyes and waited. “You can hear me if I tell you to stop,” she looked into those intense green eyes. 

‘You want me to stop?’ Drama signed with wrinkled eyebrows.

“No! No, that’s not it at all,” Faith beamed at her. “And oh my god, you’re the most adorable thing ever,” she ran her hands over Drama’s worried face. “I just need to know… if you… if I do something that’s not…” she hesitated, “something you don’t like…”

‘Oh,’ her eyes said. Yeah, fair point. It hadn’t occurred to her. 

Faith looked at her awkwardly. She picked up Drama’s right hand and placed it on her own shoulder, making her tap with a couple of fingers. “Does that work?”

‘Yes,’ she nodded. She tapped again just to make sure Faith knew she understood. She pointed at the brunette, still looking concerned. 

“Yeah, if you want,” Faith answered. “I can do the same thing.” She looked over at the light by the side of the bed, tilting her head. “You want me to-”

Drama shook her head. No, definitely not. She motioned toward her eyes, watching Faith, and Faith knew it was less about seeing her every curve than knowing where she was, where her hands were, knowing if something was going to take her off guard and make her nervous. She leaned back and waited, and Drama followed her, letting their bodies settle in next to one another.

Faith reached forward, running her hands through short blonde hair. She stared at her in wonder, not sure where it had started or when that first time was that she knew just how much she couldn’t be without Andromeda next to her. But she could see it in that moment, in the way Drama looked back at her. This girl who never spoke a word to her had said the same thing every time they looked at each other.

Drama leaned in to kiss her again, slower this time, so that she could enjoy every part of touching her and of feeling Faith’s hands on her own skin, but something in her tensed up again, and she found herself reaching for Faith’s wrist to stop her. She moved her arm to the side, rolling her onto her back and covering her with kisses. She felt her heart flipping madly in her chest at the sight of all that skin, the lacy edges of material against her breasts and curving around her hips. All the times she had watched Faith in the gym, walking around their shared office, laughing with her in the car, she had imagined what being so intimate with her would look and feel like, but her imagination had nothing on the real. If she could have talked, it would have all come out as a stutter. She braced herself and pulled at the edge of black lace along Faith’s hip. She raised her eyebrows, asking.

“You sure about this?” Faith teased. She pulled the underwear down before Drama could respond, then yanked off her bra in one swift motion. “I’ll just beat you to that one.” She was full of bravado, but Drama could see the tension underneath. She kept her eyes on Faith’s face, worried that she would stare, that Faith would think she was objectifying her. “I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t want you to see me,” Faith argued with her, but her tone was softer, and her expression asked Drama to come closer. 

She did, but she gently pulled Faith’s arms to the surface of the bed first, pressing down on them lightly. ‘Stay there.’ She laid down beside her, pressed against her, and hesitantly lifted her left hand to explore the body breathing next to her own. Faith kept her hands out of the equation and let Drama move from shoulder to breast to belly without any objection. She pulled the bed covers higher around them and settled her face in the crook of Faith’s neck. She asked with her eyes, ‘Is this okay?’ Faith nodded. They breathed in and out, their faces touching lightly, until Drama felt steady enough to kiss her again. Their lips moved slowly, tongues reaching and pressing together. Drama steered her hands around the edge of Faith’s hip, feeling the heat and dampness of her under her forearm as she grazed over her pelvis.

Faith smiled and it lit up her eyes. “I always figured you’d be a hopeless romantic.” She kissed her again, leaning her head as far as she dared, and Drama let her hand drift backwards, dipping softly between her thighs. Faith forced the air out of her lungs in a low moan, her eyebrows knit together. Drama could see her arms dig into the sheets and hold themselves in place. She let her fingers trace lazy circles and watched how Faith reacted, paid attention to where her touch elicited gasps or small contented smiles. Her body moved in small increments, but none of it worried them. Drama moved her hand slowly, touching and exploring, gaining confidence but still nervous that she would do something wrong. Her lips grazed against Faith’s as they breathed together, and she wished with everything in her that she could whisper to her, ask if this was what she wanted, what she had envisioned. “I really don’t want you to stop,” Faith sighed, opening her eyes and staring longingly into Drama’s. She struggled to get the words out, “I’ll hold still. I swear I can hold still.”

No, she shook her head. She couldn’t hold back either. This was stupid. Nothing was going to go wrong. Drama edged even closer than before, wrapping the arm from under her own body around Faith, under her back and pulling them together. Faith took her cue without hesitation and wrapped her in arms and legs and kissed her back in between the sounds she couldn’t hold back anymore. If Drama was going to let her move, then she wasn’t going to stay still a second longer than she had to. Their legs wound together. Drama pressed her thigh upward behind her hand, adding just enough pressure to make Faith dig into the skin of her back, and they rolled back and to the side again, trying to figure out how to get closer and still give her hand the room it needed. She felt Faith’s teeth in the flesh of her shoulder, and her legs wrapped around Drama, gripping into her tightly. She could hear a slight whimper, until it grew into something that surrounded her as Faith crashed into her, kissing her and crying out all at once, driving her hips into Drama over and over until she could breathe again. 

Andromeda reached around to pull Faith’s hair back so that she could see her eyes, make sure everything was still alright. Faith refused to untangle herself. She held on so tight that they had to breathe together. But she was nodding against Drama’s forehead. “I really…” she had to stop for all the panting. 

Drama shrugged at her. You what?

Faith gave her a half smile. “I thought you were right handed,” she finally said.

She laughed back, just the smallest amount of sound. She let go, trusting that Faith was wrapped securely around her, and held up both hands with her eyebrows raised.

“You seriously wait until now to tell me you’re ambidextrous?” Faith rolled her onto her back and rested her head on Drama’s chest. “It seemed for a minute there like you were a little… scared.”

Drama let her fingers work their way through Faith’s hair, pulling it away from her neck, dragging her hand through the length of it. Everything about her felt amazing. Her whole body was tingling. She reached up with her other hand to Faith’s upper arm, where she knew her eyes could see her fingers move, and tried writing a letter on her skin.

“Am I the paper now?”

She nodded, then spelled, very slowly, the word ‘mine’ on her skin.

Faith lifted her head and gazed into her eyes softly. “I’ve always been yours. I’ve just been waiting for you to figure that out.” She brought both arms up, crossed them over Drama’s chest, and leaned her chin down onto them so that she could simply stare at her. “You’re pretty good at playing hard to get.”

Drama laughed at that. She suddenly wanted to say so much, and it made her glance away. She tried, but she didn’t expect it to make any sense. She signed slowly, drawing out the motions as best she could, which wasn’t easy with a gorgeous woman laying on her chest. ‘You came along, and all I could see was you everywhere I went.’ Faith sat up and watched her words, listened intently, and looked at her face for all of its expression. ‘I fell in love with you without ever trying. And you could have anything. You could have anyone. But you’re always there, waiting for me, willing to give up everything you need for the smallest touch of my hand. I can’t ever be worth all of that.’ She sat up next to Faith and ran her hand down the side of her face. Then she pointed to herself. ‘I never wanted to speak until I met you.’ She knew Faith couldn’t possibly understand everything she had said, but she hoped that some part of it made sense.

“You said that you used to talk,” Faith tangled their fingers together. “But you stopped.”

Drama’s expression darkened. She looked down, and Faith could see that it wasn’t something she really wanted to revisit. Still, she looked up and nodded. She let go and held up both hands. Ten.

“And nothing else since then?” Faith asked. 

No, she shook her head. She took Faith’s hand in her own, pressed it against the front of her neck, and Faith watched her tense, try to make something happen. It was such a strain, but there was nothing. She pointed at Faith, who could see the frustration in her eyes.

“You shouldn’t do something like that for me,” she reasoned. “That’s not what I need.” Drama looked up at her. There was still so much sadness in her eyes. “But if you wanna pin me up against a wall and take all that frustration out on me again,” Faith shrugged, smiling around the edges. Drama smiled and blushed and wanted to look away, but Faith was right there with a gentle finger under her chin, bringing her right back. “Or you could just love me back.”

Drama’s face went slack. Her eyes softened, and she didn’t know what to do with herself, so she just stared back at the girl next to her.

“I’ve seen it in your eyes,” Faith explained. “Lots of times. You get this look,” she smiled in a shy way, “and it’s like I can see your heart beating faster when I look back at you.” She reached up and pushed Drama’s loose hair back, enjoying the feel of it between her fingers. “You didn’t even know me, and you dove into the pool after me, and when you pulled me out, that was the look in your eyes. And it was so clear that it actually scared me for a moment.” She looked down and bit her lip. “All those nights in the car together,” she glanced back up, and Drama knew she could see those moments in her mind, “my hair was a wreck, and I didn’t keep up with the makeup, and you just looked at me like I was the most amazing thing you’d ever seen.”

Drama gave her a ‘duh’ with her face.

She snickered. “There wasn’t even one second when you saw me looking at you that it crossed your mind why? You couldn’t see it on me?”

I could, she said to herself, nodding. She had always seen it. 

“It’s true,” she went on with a smile. “I could have just been completely smitten with how gorgeous you are.” Drama laughed a bit. “But that’s nothing compared to how hard I fell in love with you. And it never had anything to do with you talking out loud.” Drama stared into her eyes with abandon. Faith placed her hand on Drama’s thigh, running up the length of it from her knee to the last piece of clothing they hadn’t managed to toss aside. “Maybe you might let me… show you… how much I’m in love with you. And if you really wanna talk,” Faith fluttered her eyelashes, maybe intentionally, “I can give you a reason.”

Drama leaned back, pulling off the shorts, and they laid back down slowly, descending into sweet kisses and absolutely no sleep for hours.


	14. Chapter 14

Faith woke up with a start and clutched the covers around her shoulders. She looked around the room and sat up, but Drama was nowhere to be seen. She heard sounds coming from the kitchen, so she got up and rummaged around the room for something to wear. It crossed her mind to put her clothes from the night before back on, but she felt a bit mischievous and decided this was a far better opportunity to find something of Drama’s to commandeer. A minute later she emerged into the living room. Drama glanced up and stared at the gorgeous woman wearing nothing but one of her old half marathon t-shirts and her underwear. “Good morning,” she smiled at the girl behind the counter. She looked at the plates on the island and saw that Drama had cooked. There was a full breakfast waiting for her. Eggs, sausage, pancakes, everything.

‘Hi,’ Drama signed. She immediately felt like an idiot. She was grinning like a total fool. She yelled at herself in her head to knock it off, not to be so giddy when they both still had to get to work. She passed the notepad on the counter to Faith. She had written it out while she had been cooking, waiting for Faith to wake up.

Faith picked it up and read it out loud with a grin on her face. “Good morning, beautiful. I’ve already walked the dog and made breakfast so that we have some time before work.” Faith pulled the plate closer to her and sat on one of the stools. “That was nice of you,” she said. She continued reading, “Sleeping next to you was the most amazing way to spend a night,” she smiled up at Drama again, “even though we didn’t really get much sleep. We can’t call in sick today, but maybe you’ll come back again tonight?” She put the letter down and rested her chin in her hand. “Are you trying to be the most adorable thing ever?” she asked.

Drama nodded and smiled clear up to her eyes. She pointed to the plate. Eat.

“Okay,” Faith grabbed the fork and started cutting into the fluffy pancakes, “but I have bad news for you.” The look on Drama’s face dropped. “Murdock emailed last night. She’s sending me off for a few days. It’s a punishment. I thought she might do this.” 

Drama sat down next to her and put her head in her hands. Dammit. This was the worst news she could have gotten right now. ‘Where are you going?’ she wrote on the notepad.

“San Diego. My flight leaves at six tonight. Did you make these from scratch?” she said through mouthfuls of pancake and syrup. “You’re employed, you’ve got a nice place, your dog is cute, you’re sexy as hell, _and_ you cook?”

‘Apparently I have nice shirts, too,’ she wrote, pulling at the edge of the shirt Faith had found in her drawer.

“Mm,” Faith smiled back, “finders keepers. Gotta have something to take with me if I have to sleep alone all week.”

Drama checked the clock on the wall. They had an hour at the most. ‘Should we go to your place for work clothes?’

Faith cut into another pancake. “You don’t think I can show up like this?”

Drama looked sideways with a face that said something like, that wouldn’t be the _worst_ idea ever. But it was obvious how upset she was that Faith would have to leave. She drew a frowny face on the notepad. 

Faith pushed the plate back and turned sideways, slipping her arms around Drama’s neck and resting their foreheads together. “You’re kind of impossible, you know.” Drama sighed at her but didn’t move away. “I’ll be back at the end of the week. Friday night. Maybe you could pick me up at the airport and we could finish what you started before we both collapsed in exhaustion last night?” She leaned in and kissed the blonde, pulling her to standing and pressing their bodies closer. 

Drama let herself be drawn in with a ridiculous smile on her lips. She could feel Faith’s bare legs wrap around her seductively. The t-shirt under her hands didn’t hide much of anything. She slipped her hands under the edge of it, running her fingers along her waist, across her back. Everything about Faith was irresistible. No, she started shaking her head. Nope. Definitely not. She stared intensely into Faith’s eyes.

“What?” Faith looked up. Her expression was full of worry. 

Drama leaned over and grabbed the notepad, scribbled in messy letters, ‘Not Friday. Now.’

Faith looked at the words and glanced up. “Yeah, but we have work, and it’s already…” she started to look around for the clock, but she felt her entire body being lifted off the stool and up onto the edge of the counter. It was ice cold under her bare skin. She gasped and looked back at the fire in Drama’s eyes. _Now_. “I’m not really a model employee anyway,” she agreed quickly as the blonde bent low over her abdomen, pulled the shirt up with her teeth, and kissed the rest of her way down.

____________________

“What the hell is up with you today?” Pan finally asked after chasing her friend down through three hallways. Drama glanced over her shoulder but refused to make eye contact. Pan should know better than to follow her through her routine of inspecting the backup server support system. She was busy. Pan whispered loudly, “You’re smiling. You’re like… glowing.”

Drama’s eyes were wide. She focused even more intently on the keycard in her pocket and swiped to open the door to the server room. ‘Nothing,’ she signed.

Pan touched her shoulder and pulled her around so that they could face each other. Drama’s eyes stayed glued on the floor. Pan leaned in close, craning her neck under the face of the other woman. She was so much taller than Pan that it wasn’t too hard. Drama looked left and stuffed her hands in her back pockets. “Oh my god,” Pan’s hand flew to cover her mouth. “Did you-”

‘No!’ she signed back, holding up a finger. ‘Don’t.’ But her face betrayed her. Her lips twitched into a half smile. She fidgeted and wrapped her hands around her upper arms, looking away again. 

“Okay, but clearly,” Pan kept pressing, “it must have been a good night if you’re smiling like that.” She nudged her friend’s shoulder. They looked at each other and snickered, bending over from laughter. 

Drama nodded vigorously and pushed her hair back out of her face with both hands. She blew air forcefully out of her mouth. She felt her whole body flush from head to toe. ‘Unbelievable.’

‘Details,’ Pan signed. “All of them.”

Drama wrinkled her nose. ‘Hell no.’ She started working on the server cabinet. 

“Are you spending time together again tonight?”

‘I wish we could,’ she answered with a half-smile. ‘She’s leaving, remember?’

Pan grinned at the romance of it all, even if she wasn’t going to get the full scoop. She signed and spoke at the same time. Her words were getting clearer the more she practiced. “I saw her try to bite Claude’s face off first thing this morning so I knew something was up.” They both laughed. “Is she going to learn sign?”

Drama shrugged. She didn’t think it was quite so important just yet, and she blushed again. ‘She’s really good at body language.’

Pan wandered around the room while her friend worked. “Petra is working with Willow today,” she mentioned. She saw Drama stiffen slightly. “She’s cool. I think you’d like her.”

‘I don’t need more lesbian friends.’

“Well how about just a friend then?” Pan frowned at her. “She’s got a girlfriend anyway. Tara.” She snorted. “She won’t shut up about her. It’s kinda cute. But I think it’s making Pet jealous.”

‘Petra likes Willow?’ Drama raised one eyebrow. ‘I thought she was still chasing that guy from the coffee shop around.’

“She is,” she leaned on a low table at the far end of the room. “And not Willow. She thinks Tara is cute. She’ll get over it.” Drama moved sideways and worked on the next server unit. “You should get to know her,” Pan shrugged.

‘Tara?’

“Willow.”

Drama sighed heavily, loudly. ‘You’re impossible. You just want me to talk to her for you because you’re too shy.’ Pan gave her a huge smile back knowing she was winning. ‘Dude, I don’t talk.’

“I know,” Pan’s eyebrows creased, “but you’re smart like her. Your brains are the same.”

Drama rolled her eyes and went back to work, but Pan’s comments made her wonder if that could be true. There wasn’t anyone else in the office who understood infrastructure the way she did, which meant that most of her work was solo. That had worked for such a long time that Drama didn’t know what it would be like to work with someone else on that level. She thought back to some of the contract work she’d done prior to her last conviction. It had been thrilling because of the risk, but she had to admit that part of the thrill was also working so closely with the rest of the team. It was dangerous and terrifying and she bit her bottom lip thinking about how many times she had literally had to run to keep from getting caught. She shook her head and opened the next server cabinet. It had also been incredibly stupid, and sitting in the back of a squad car in handcuffs was painful and humiliating, especially when the cops would yell and yell thinking she was deaf. The quiet life was better. Running without being chased was better.

Willow sat at the desk and squinted at the screen. It was getting dark outside, and she had been working continuously since she got back from lunch with Petra. That girl had asked her a hundred questions about Tara, and she was beginning to think she might need to act a bit more possessive of her girlfriend. She looked up and saw the tall blonde girl on the other side of the glass wall glaring at her again. That one was tough to read. Willow sighed and stretched, rolled the chair around until they were facing each other. Mac and Boston were the only two left at this point. They were knee deep in their own worlds with earbuds in. And there was that glare again. She felt it before she saw the girl’s eyes boring into her. Nobody had explained her yet. She knew she worked with Faith, and that was reason enough to be cautious. Willow decided to take her best full-on dork approach to break the ice. She made a huge grin on her face and waved with her hand wide open. The blonde frowned. Good start. Willow watched her get up from her desk and move from the side office into the main workroom. She had a pad of paper in her hand when she finally leaned against the redhead’s desk. 

Drama folded her arms across her chest defiantly. ‘What,’ her expression said.

“We haven’t really had a chance to meet yet,” Willow explained. She stuck out her hand awkwardly. “Willow Rosenberg.” She waited for a beat longer than was comfortable before the other girl grudgingly shook her hand.

She breathed slowly out of her nose. Here it comes. She hated this shit. The first conversation always went the same. She wished she had it all written down on something permanent so that she didn’t have to keep going through the same motions. Drama pulled the pencil out of her pocket and wrote on the notepad. ‘Andromeda Hayes. Just Drama to you. Cyber security and infrastructure.’

Willow took a deep breath and pushed her chair back for a bit of extra room. Petra had mentioned this, but she had been so overwhelmed learning everything in this new place that she simply forgot. She needed to apologize. ‘I’m sorry,’ she signed. ‘Not trying to be a jerk, I just forgot. Petra said you don’t talk.’

Drama was stunned. She actually felt speechless for a moment, which made her feel like laughing. A light huff came out of her lungs. Her mouth hung open a fraction. ‘You sign? How much do you know?’

“Oh, I’m fluent,” Willow answered with her voice and hands. “Shit,” her faced scrunched up, “do you read lips, too? Do I look like an idiot signing?”

‘No, no!’ Drama sat down in the closest chair and slid nearer, suddenly far more interested in the redhead. Nobody had prepared her for this sort of thing. Pan was the only other one in the office who even tried learning ASL. ‘I’m not deaf.’ She smiled. ‘Just not that talkative.’ She laughed at Willow’s relaxed smile. ‘No one else does this with me.’

“My best friend growing up was deaf, so we learned together,” Willow explained. “I’m used to talking out loud, but I can stop if that’s better for you.” 

Drama shook her head, no. She was still smiling. This was turning out to be a better week than she had bargained on. ‘Settling in okay? This place can be a lot to take in.’

“Murdock seems a little intense.”

‘Just don’t call her Ophelia or Phe when she can hear you. Zero forgiveness.’ She smiled, having seen what that had done to others on the team in years prior. She glanced up at the clock and felt a twinge of guilt in her chest at being nice to Willow when Faith was about to board her plane. This was one conflict she didn’t know how to resolve just yet.

“Good to know,” Willow rubbed the back of her neck. It had been a long day. “Tara was worried you’d all just throw me to the wolves after what I did.” She managed to look appropriately guilty.

‘She’s your girlfriend, right?’ Drama asked. Willow smiled back. ‘She’s cute.’ Okay, fine, maybe a lesbian friend wasn’t the worst thing ever.

Willow blushed bright red. “You have a girlfriend?”

‘It’s complicated.’

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Willow sat back. “You clearly only just met me, and here’s me getting way too personal.”

Drama shrugged. ‘This is a small group. It won’t take long.’

“Were you the one…” Willow hesitated, “I broke into your system. Kinda trashed it. It was… really good. There were some points where I couldn’t get through.”

Drama looked at her with wide eyes. That was one hell of a compliment. ‘It wasn’t built to keep someone like you out. But thanks.’ She stood up to go.

“Hey,” Willow called out, “um, Tara… my girlfriend? She wants me to invite everybody over for movies and popcorn and stuff on Thursday night. If you wanna…”

‘Claude?’

“Hell no,” Willow laughed. “But Petra said you might be okay with it, and,” she hesitated again, looking nervous, “it’d be nice to have someone around who… gets the complicated stuff. I don’t ever talk to anyone who understands my brain.”

______________________________________

Two nights. It had been an excruciating length of time for Drama to settle back in on her own. She shook her head at her own stupidity. Seriously, she had been alone her entire life, then Faith wanders in, steals her heart, and she couldn’t stand to be a minute away from her. But Murdock had given them a reason to cool off by sending Faith to San Diego for training with three other members of the security team. It was an obvious punishment for how badly she had screwed up with bringing Willow in. So now she sat in her car, alone, and stared at the glowing lights of the inside of the craftsman house across the street. One night to go. She sighed, brushed her hair back, and stepped out of the car.

The doorbell rang. Tara carried the towel she was using to dry her hands over her shoulder and opened the door, smiling up at the tall girl on her porch. She looked nervous as hell, and cold. Her hands were stuffed in the pockets of her air force bomber jacket. “You must be-”

“Drama!” Petra came running up behind Tara, reached through the doorway, grabbed Drama’s arm, and hauled her inside. 

“Nice to meet you?” Tara stared as Petra yanked her friend into the living room.

The inside of the house was so warm Drama instantly needed to take her coat off. She turned around and saw a blazing fireplace in the corner. Everything in the house was soft and inviting. It was actually sort of amazing. Petra was chattering to her about the movie she and Scotty were watching, but Drama shrugged and tilted her head to the side. 

“I can take your coat,” Tara tried again.

Drama smiled shyly and handed it over, signed, ‘Thanks.’ She followed her out of the living room. ‘You’re house is beautiful.’ She motioned around to everything in the big dining room so that Tara would understand what she meant. It was obviously that she didn’t know sign.

Tara didn’t seem put off. “That’s nice of you to say. Are you thirsty?” She pointed at the kitchen. She hung the coat in the closet under the stairs and walked them through the archway. “Willow has been doing all the repairs around here. She’s out back,” she chattered absently. She opened the fridge and pulled out a beer in one hand, soda in another. Drama took the soda and smiled again. Small talk was so hard when you didn’t talk. “Willow was really hoping you’d make it. I’m glad you came, too.”

“Ooh, hey!” Willow called out as she came in from the back door. She grinned at Drama. “You’re here!” She started signing as soon as she dropped the collection of boxes onto the table. “I thought maybe you’d like to play a board game or cards or something, so I pulled out the ones I found in the storage space in the garage out back,” she pointed and talked until Drama put a hand on her wrist.

‘I’m trying to get to know your super-hot girlfriend, doofus,’ she signed, looking politely back at Tara. 

“Oh,” Willow blushed. “Sorry. You want me to talk for you, or are you gonna play charades all night? And what did you say?” she scrunched up her nose.

Drama flipped her off but kept smiling.

“Ooh, I know that one!” Tara bounced on her feet. She watched Drama sweep her hair back, and something about the motion reminded her of several nights before. Her smile faltered, and when Drama looked directly at her, when she saw those green eyes staring back at her, the connection made sense. This was the same girl who had grabbed her and Drew in the stairwell of Vector, the one Tara had thought might actually hurt them until things had gotten worse with Sarah and Helena and Faith, and everything fell together in one sweeping crush as she watched Drama blink at her.

And Drama immediately knew what she was seeing. Her eyes flicked to Willow in a panic, and she signed apology after apology to her. ‘Shit, Willow, this was a terrible idea. I’m so sorry for trying to come here. She’s not ready for this. I should go.’ She turned and made for the door faster than Willow could recover.

“Wait!” Willow called out, taking off after her. They collided in the dining room where Drama had turned to go back for her coat, and she ran into the redhead with so much force that she knocked her clean off her feet. But her hands were lightning fast, and she grabbed Willow roughly by the shoulders before she had tipped too far off center, saving her from a rough landing on the hardwood floor. Willow scrambled to her feet and stared with wide eyes. “Wow, you’re fast,” she breathed.

Drama looked over her briefly, then let go and headed for the door again. Petra had jumped up to follow her, and she made it to the door first, holding it shut with the smallest arms Drama had ever been faced with. “Chill out! What’s wrong with you?” she shouted up at her. Petra glanced back at Willow and Tara who were there in the living room. 

Scotty paused the movie. “What happened?”

“It’s my fault,” Willow tried to jump in, but Tara was right there, trying to say the same thing.

“No, it’s me, I just…” Tara put a hand on Willow’s shoulder. They shared a quick look. “There’s been so much that’s changed so fast, and I thought this would be good. For you.” She gazed so tenderly at Willow that the others thought they might need to look away. “But I didn’t really think about…” she turned to look at Drama, “about what this would be…” She tried to steady herself with a long breath. “It’s fine. You were doing your job,” she reasoned.

Drama watched her with a heavy frown. This still didn’t feel right. She looked down at Petra, who still had a hand on the door. “Are you gonna fuck this up for me? Because they’re cool.” She gestured toward Tara and Willow. Drama sighed and shifted her shoulders uncomfortably. Petra let her hand slide off the door. She lifted a warning finger at the tall girl towering over her. “And stop staring at me like you could just pick me up and move me out of the way.”

‘I could,’ she signed quietly.

“Can we please just try this again?” Willow asked nervously.

But Drama shook her head. She signed to Willow, ‘Talk for me?’

Willow lifted her eyebrows and nodded. “Sure. Um… Drama says she’s sorry about all of this. She didn’t mean to ruin the evening. Tara, you have a beautiful house, and you seem like a very nice person. You, too, Willow. Oh,” she laughed. “Me. Right.” Drama kept signing. “But I was the one who put surveillance on you, and I was the one who assaulted you and the boyfriend in the stairs-”

Tara made a face, “Not my boyfriend,” she waved her hands frantically. 

“Still sorry,” Willow went on for Drama. “I’m not sure how to work past all of that. And sorry for thinking you were in some kind of three-way or whatever.” Willow looked like she had just swallowed her own tongue. “I can’t believe you used me to say that,” she stared wide-eyed at the tall girl. 

Drama shuffled her feet and glanced at Petra, who was busy shaking her head in an extremely embarrassed way. “I have no idea what she sees in you,” she groaned. Drama blanched. 

“Who?” Scotty perked up from the couch.

“Not important right now,” Petra pointed at him without tearing her eyes away from Drama. Her finger moved right back to the blonde. “I like it better when you’re quiet. You come with a lot less emotional garbage.” She sighed noisily. “Tara specifically set this up so that we could get over our rough start. So can you please stop being a dick? She already ordered pizza.”

Drama blinked down at her, not sure how to follow that with anything. 

“You really do cut straight to the point, don’t you?” Tara tilted her head to the side and stared at Petra. Her lips quirked into a half smile. 

Willow stepped a little closer to Drama, feeling extremely awkward. “I, uh… I found Risk and Blokus… if you’d like to play something instead of watching the English Patient or whatever.” But Drama had to confess that she didn’t know what those were, and so she let Willow lead her back to the kitchen. She showed her the boxes to see if that sparked an interest. “There are a couple others. Do you have a favorite board game?”

‘Never played one before,’ she signed.

“No Monopoly,” Tara warned as she followed them and carefully took Drama’s coat again. They looked at each other for a moment, and Drama had no idea why, but Tara smiled at her. “It takes hours, and I’m not having her stay up all night just to build hotels.” She walked off with the coat.

“Never played these or never played a board game?” Willow scrunched up her nose at Drama. 

‘Both,’ Drama signed, sitting at the table. She picked up one of the boxes and frowned as she tried to understand the point. ‘How does it work?’

Willow wondered if she was kidding, but it was apparent after a few minutes of setting up the Risk board and dividing out armies that Drama really hadn’t ever done anything like this. She squinted at the map and looked up at Willow like she was crazy. ‘This clearly predates GIS mapping. And what the actual fuck is Kamchatka?’ 

“Yeah, well, that’s not called Siam anymore either, so bear with it. This thing is probably from the sixties.”

Tara sat down next to them. “My mom used to drive around to all the garage sales in the summer looking for old board games. She loved these. And the older the better.” She smiled at the memory.

“Do you at least understand dice?” Willow teased, but she hoped she wasn’t pushing it too far.

‘We could arm wrestle if you feel like you need to prove something,’ Drama glared back at her. 

But Willow just smiled. She was happier now that the tension had eased between the three of them. She dealt out the initial cards and explained how the game worked, handing Drama the paper with the rules if she needed it. They played a few turns before it really made sense to her, and then she caught on and began to enjoy it, even when Tara kept rolling sixes. 

“So… what part do you do at work?” Tara asked while Willow placed a few more troops on her territories.

Drama pointed at the small notepad next to the pile of boxes on the table. Tara handed it over, along with a stubby pencil. They were clearly from one of the games, but they would work just fine. Willow was too busy thinking to translate anyway. ‘I build systems and keep them secure,’ Drama wrote. She pointed at Tara with a question in her eyes.

“College. U dub.” Tara shrugged. “I’m a little behind schedule, but I’ll graduate in the spring.”

Willow asked absently without looking up, “Where’d you go to school, Drama? It must’ve been somewhere good with your skillset.” She lifted her eyes and saw the funny look on Drama’s face.

Drama chewed on her lip. ‘Just jail,’ she finally signed. It wasn’t the sort of thing that tended to inspire great conversations.

“Wow,” Willow said right away. She sat back in her chair. 

Tara turned toward her. “Wow? What college gets a wow?” She picked up the dice and challenged Willow to take East Africa.

“That’s better than UC Davis,” Willow tried to keep from laughing. “And definitely cheaper.” They both rolled, and Willow lost in a blaze of glory. Tara moved her pieces in and tossed Willow’s at her. “You and those sixes!”

Drama laughed for the first time that night. She glanced at Tara, then pulled the paper over and wrote ‘juvie’ on it. 

Tara looked at her briefly, but Drama was all smiles about it, so she smiled back. “So you’re like Willow,” she blushed and looked away. She pulled a card off the deck and nudged Drama to take her turn.

‘No way,’ she signed, and she made sure Tara could see her and understand it from her facial expression. Then she wrote again. ‘She’s a genius.’

Petra came around the corner with two pizza boxes. She dropped them on the table. “Whatchya playing?” She looked at the board. “Dang, that looks really old.”

“Pretty sure everything in this house is older than you,” Willow snickered, “including the pepperoni.”

Drama had to put her hand over her mouth. She recovered just enough to sign, ‘Did you compare Petra to charcuterie? That was funny as hell.’

“Fuck you both,” Petra grabbed a slice of pizza. “I’m hoping to hit puberty next week.”

Scotty walked in and immediately regretted his timing. “Why is it always girl talk when I show up?” He sat at the table. “Is that Risk? I love that game.”

“Too late,” Tara looked at her cards. “I’m busy winning.” She narrowed her eyes at Drama. “Are you attacking my Northwest Territory or not?”

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Drama picked up the dice and rolled. Tara beat her.

Scotty let out a low whistle. “You’re vicious.”

“She’s totally your type, Scotty,” Petra gave him a wicked grin. “Too bad she’s taken, right? Were you checking out that barista at Retro yesterday? I think she likes you.”

Drama laughed at Petra and joined in, signing to Willow.

“Drama wants to know if you’re going to ask her out,” Willow fumbled with her pieces. “Are you?” She looked up and saw how panicked Scotty looked.

He cleared his throat. “Sure. As soon as Drama tells us who she’s dating.” His eyes darted to hers, and he wondered briefly if she could punch him from that far across the table. “It’s definitely somebody at work.”

The room felt hot all of a sudden, and Drama took some time to examine her cards behind Tara who was leaning across the board for the dice.

“As long as it’s not Claude,” Willow shook her head.

Petra and Scotty both howled at her. “How could you! That’s terrible!” Petra picked up another slice of pizza. “Claude is going to die a lonely old spinster. And anyway, Drama has way better taste than that.”

“Aw,” Scotty scowled at her. “You know who it is!”

“Of course,” she shrugged. Drama sank down a little lower in her chair, completely full of regret for teasing Scotty a minute earlier. “But I am sworn to secrecy,” she said with a mouthful of crust.

“Why the big secret?” Tara looked around at them. She felt a little out of the loop, not knowing all of their coworkers. “Company policy or something?”

“No, they’re both just big chickens,” Petra glared at Drama.

“Well at least that rules out Faith,” Willow said with a breathy laugh. She pointed at the game board. “Brazil to Venezuela,” she pointed at Drama, but all of the color had drained out of her face. Willow put the die down and leaned forward. “You have got to be kidding.”

Everybody turned to look at her. Busted.

“I am so glad I came over tonight,” Scotty said with a completely blank expression that very slowly turned into a wide grin.

And Drama started signing furiously. ‘No, no, no! You can’t say a word. It can’t leave this house.’

“Pretty sure this means I’m off the hook,” Petra said smugly. She looked at Scotty. “You know sign language? Cuz I sure don’t.”

Tara turned to look at Drama with a revised appraisal. “You’re dating her? And she doesn’t scare the crap out of you?”

Drama let her head drop down onto the wooden table with a loud thunk. She felt Tara place a comforting hand on her back, and she felt her body tense up slightly. The reaction was nowhere near as strong as it had always been with Faith, but she didn’t feel like now was a good time to focus on that. She had no idea how she would be able to explain this once Faith came home the next day. It was a complete disaster.

“I think that’s a pretty clear signal that we shouldn’t mention this at work,” Willow said across the table. Drama looked up, full of worry. 

“Claude will eat you both alive if she finds out,” Scotty shook his head. “Actually, now I’m worried Faith might kill me for knowing.”

“Purely figurative, right?” Tara glanced between him and Willow. But they both just shrugged.

Petra hopped up and walked behind Drama, giving her a big hug from the back of the chair. With Drama sitting down Petra was actually tall enough to rest her chin on the blonde’s head. “You two are disgustingly adorable together.” Drama snorted at her. “I’ll help you kick Claude’s ass. Any excuse is worthwhile.”

“Still having a hard time wrapping my head around this one,” Willow looked over the board, realizing how badly she was losing to her girlfriend. 

“It’s a game of world domination,” Tara said. “What’s so hard? Losing?”

“Yes, actually,” she said with a sly grin. “And I meant Faith in a relationship with someone normal.” She glanced at Drama, who looked stunned. “Not sure how you’re her type. You’re not crazy.”

Petra looked down at Drama’s sweatshirt, trying to see if she had on a tank underneath. “Take off a layer and show her the arms.” Drama turned bright red, and shook her head. Petra glanced at Tara. “Trust me, it makes perfect sense.”

“Like, full-blown relationship?” Scotty picked out his own slice of pizza. “You should put your next set of troops in Iceland,” he pointed to the board.

Drama followed his line of sight and put six armies down. ‘Can we please stop talking about my relationship now?’

“Like, almost two years long relationship,” Petra leaned on the table. “You have no idea how much patience it has taken not to mock them both publicly over this.”

“Two years is a long time not to say anything,” Tara mumbled. “I mean,” she looked up sharply at Drama, “not like not talking not saying anything… crap, am I being really rude?”

Drama wanted to put her head back down on the table. She signed to Willow. ‘Can you tell her that I don’t mind saying I can’t talk, which I can’t, and it’s not a big deal? And maybe also that it would be great if everyone could find a new topic that’s not my girlfriend? This is beyond embarrassing.’ 

“Can we just settle on, Tara, honey, you’re not rude, you’re fine, and the relationship with Faith is complicated?” Drama shrugged at Willow’s interpretation. “I won’t say anything. I promise,” Willow put her hand up like a girl scout.

“Ditto,” Scotty said as he grabbed another slice of pizza. “But I’m definitely going to leverage this for help with the electrical on my car.”

“You’re good with cars, too?” Willow scrunched up her eyebrows. 

Drama just stared back, still feeling like the world was falling apart, but everyone else seemed to be handling things way better than she was.

“She’s good at everything,” Petra rolled her eyes, but she hugged Drama again anyway. “It’s sort of disgusting.”

“Sports?” Willow asked.

“Oh yeah,” Petra smirked and moved over to lean on the kitchen counter, giving Drama her most reassuring smile. “She cooks, too.”

Tara looked at her. “That’s pretty hot, actually.” She turned to smile at Willow. “Definitely worked on me.” She leaned toward Drama and said in a low voice, “Willow once made me this incredible stew with lamb in it. I was a little worried she’d been off killing baby sheep or something, but I couldn’t get enough of that stuff.”

‘You kill baby sheep?’ Drama signed to Willow with concern.

“Not specifically,” she answered with wide eyes. “But farming isn’t all about kale, you know.” Willow glanced at the pizza box. “Oh, I asked Tara to order a veggie since I didn’t know if you’re a carnivore.” She moved the boxes closer and grabbed a slice for herself. 

Drama felt herself smile. She grabbed a slice of pizza, which made it a little more challenging to sign. ‘I do like kale, but meat is fine.’ She looked at the board between them. ‘Brazil to Venezuela, right? Still your turn.’ She picked up the die on her side of the table, ready to roll.

Willow grinned at her and did the same. They played and ate all the pizza while Scotty and Petra joked about how miserable it was to work with Claude, until Tara finally felt like she knew all the names of the characters they worked with. They packed everything up as Petra started yawning and said she was catching a ride home with Scotty. 

She was almost out the door when she turned around and ran back to Drama, slamming into her to give her a huge hug around her waist. Drama froze and tried to stay upright. She wasn’t sure what to do with her arms, so she patted her shoulders lightly, feeling utterly confused. Petra let go after a minute, and she glared at Drama with so much anger that Drama actually thought she might take a swing at her. But Petra only put a finger up toward her face and said, “Do not fuck this up.” She turned around and walked back to the door, sparing a quick glance backward. “See you at work tomorrow.”

“What the heck was that all about?” Willow came up beside her, watching Petra close the door and walk down the front steps.

Drama shrugged. ‘She’s Faith’s best friend.’

“Right,” Willow put a hand up to her head. “I’m really sorry about guessing and blowing your cover like that. I had no idea.”

‘I’ll get over it.’ She felt awkward standing next to Willow all of a sudden. They’d had a lot of fun together, and everyone had been so easy to spend time with. Drama wasn’t used to hanging out with friends, but this felt nice. ‘This was fun,’ she signed. ‘Tara’s kind of amazing.’ She glanced back at the kitchen where Tara was cleaning up the pizza boxes and paper plates. ‘And you’re not the complete shithead Faith said you’d be.’ She attempted a smile.

Willow snickered. “I’m not sure that’s much of a compliment, but it’s probably nicer than what she would say if she were here.” She leaned on the dining table. “How has she… Has she been okay?”

Drama took a deep breath. She wasn’t sure if any of this was crossing a line. ‘I think so. She’s happy.’ She wanted to say more, but it was hard to know if Willow wanted to hear it. ‘She didn’t want to go looking for you. I did that part without her.’

“I’m sure Murdock had everything to do with that,” Willow said pensively. “Am I going to regret taking this job?”

‘It’s been a good place for most of us. I know I needed it. But I’m not sure Ophelia would let you go now that she has you. She has a lot of power and no real oversight for her choices.’

“She’s the one who got Faith out early,” Willow reasoned. It made sense. “So that’s even more leverage.”

Drama frowned and shifted her feet. ‘She used it against me already, and I almost lost Faith over it.’ She glanced toward the kitchen, wondering why Tara was suddenly so quiet. She turned back to Willow and decided to take a chance. ‘I want to dig into Murdock and figure out what her plans are.’

Willow stopped talking and signed only. ‘That’s a little treasonous, don’t you think?’

Drama swept her hair back with one hand. ‘Depends on where your loyalties are.’ They looked at each other for a long moment, and then Drama sighed. ‘I’m at two strikes. I can’t afford another conviction.’ Willow watched her face and saw the anxiety there below the surface. 

“You two are awfully quiet out here,” Tara breezed through with a basket of laundry. “Cooking up a conspiracy already?” She smiled at her own joke as she watched them, but they both looked so uncomfortable that she dropped the basket on the end of the table and walked closer. “Okay, please tell me you’re not actually up to no good already.” Her eyes drilled into Willow’s. “We did have that conversation in real life and not just in my head, right?”

“Very clear memories,” Willow said without hesitation. “And no shenanigans. Promise. Just me getting to know the work talk. That’s all.”

“Hm,” Tara hummed. She looked up at Drama and gave her a warm smile. “Don’t let the innocent face fool you. She’s a schemer.” But the way she looked at Willow just showed how much she truly trusted her. She reached out and patted Drama’s arm. “It was fun having you over tonight. You should come again.”


	15. Chapter 15

December 2012

Faith looked around as she picked up her checked bag from the collection of luggage piled up around the small crowd of people. She was tired and cranky from being stuffed on a plane for three hours, and she had missed Drama more than she had expected after almost an entire week away. Something tugged at her insides and made her uncomfortable. She wasn’t used to needing anyone, and now, wanting to see Andromeda desperately and not having her there just made her feel that much more vulnerable. She hated it. No, she threw her bag over her shoulder, that wasn’t quite right. She didn’t hate it. She just hadn’t ever felt it before, and she didn’t know how to depend on someone or expect them to be around when she needed them. She turned and walked out of the staging space around baggage claim only to run headlong into something both tall and firm, but she hit with such force, off balance from the extra weight of her bags, that they both tumbled to the floor in a heap. “Dammit,” she mumbled, trying to untangle herself from the strap of her shoulder bag that had twisted around her arm. 

Steady hands wrapped under her arms and pulled the bag loose, but no words came out of the other person. Faith’s eyes shot up and met with Drama’s, and she broke into such an enormous smile that she couldn’t hold back anything she felt. She inched up onto her elbows and leaned in over the blonde, kissing her with all the passion and longing that had been suffering inside of her for days. A few people edged awkwardly around where they lay on the floor of the airport, kissing like they’d been apart for years. Drama smiled up at Faith and brushed the dark hair out of her face to look at her. Four days was definitely too long to be apart. 

They managed to find their way to their feet, to pick up Faith’s possessions, and to settle on holding hands on the way to the car. Faith didn’t even know what to say for once. She felt like an idiot for being so grumbly getting off the plane, thinking Drama wouldn’t be there to meet her, and clearly, here she was. She just stared at her and smiled. 

When they got in the car there was a notepad on the dashboard. Drama handed it to Faith. She looked down and saw two things written. Your place? My place? 

“You don’t waste any time, do you,” Faith grinned back at her. “It’s December and I’ve been gone all week. My place is gonna be freezing.” She felt that something in her chest again, so she looked out the window to hide it. Drama was here, they were together, she should just focus on how good that felt. She kept to herself for most of the drive back, leaving her hand on Drama’s leg as she drove. Their arms brushed when she shifted gears, and every now and then a hand reached down for hers, holding her as long as they could until she had to change speed again. 

Moose entertained himself by sniffing at her things as she set them down by the door in the warm apartment. She let Drama move around her, taking her jacket, turning on lights, starting a fresh pot of coffee to warm them up. It was obvious that Faith wasn’t saying much, that something in her was quiet and reserved, and Drama didn’t quite know what to expect from her. So she did what she knew. Once the coffee was hot, she guided Faith to the sofa and sat down with her. Everything felt awkward, and there was a strain in Faith’s face, like she was concentrating on something Drama couldn’t see. 

And when Faith looked up at her, she noticed something behind Andromeda on the bookcase against the wall where all of her music was kept. The shelf above the vinyl records had a framed picture resting on it. It was the two of them from the morning before she had left. She was looking into the camera lens, while Andromeda was turned, kissing the side of her face softly. Her face relaxed a little as she looked at the photograph.

Drama shifted sideways, put a pillow behind her back, and stretched out her arms to Faith. She looked at her patiently, hoping. 

“Are you always just there waiting for me?” Faith managed to say with furrowed eyebrows. 

Drama nodded slowly, keeping her hands extended. Faith moved closer, letting herself be pulled in, until she was resting on Drama’s chest, her head tucked under the blonde’s chin. Drama wrapped her arms around Faith’s body, hugging her tightly. She paused only long enough to reach a hand into her pocket, pulling out her phone. She drafted a text for Faith to read since there was no other way for her to talk when they were this close. ‘Did you think I wouldn’t be?’

Faith wrapped herself around Drama even tighter. She could hear a strong heartbeat under her ear. “I’ve never had this,” she whispered.

A gentle hand reached up, smoothed the hair around her ear, off of her neck, down her back. Her hand was so sure and steady in its movement. She closed her eyes and sank into Drama’s embrace. She breathed in the scent of her, everything about how she felt against her own body, and it all felt so good that she suddenly realized there were tears in her eyes, and they didn’t make any sense. When she finally opened her eyes after a long, long time, she saw more words on the phone. ‘Usually I’m the quiet one.’ She breathed a short laugh. Good point. 

Faith forced herself to sit up a little, leaning on an elbow and making some space between them. She stared into Drama’s face, slowly examining all of her, from the length of her eyelashes to the pale tint of her lips. She let her fingers wander over her hairline, down her cheek. Nothing ever seemed to faze Drama. She was just there, always waiting patiently. Nothing was rushed. So Faith took a deep breath. “There’s some stuff,” she started. “Stuff I should tell you. I don’t know that you want to hear it.”

Andromeda placed a hand behind Faith’s neck and pulled their foreheads gently together. Faith felt a finger point into her chest, then into Drama’s. You and me. She grabbed Faith’s shirt in her fist, not hard really, but definitely possessive. I need you, the motion said.

Faith leaned forward and placed her lips on Andromeda’s, kissing her tenderly. “I need you, too.”

Drama ran her hand down Faith’s chin, along the curve of her neck. She lifted her head a fraction, waiting for Faith to be ready to say what was in her.

“My mom was a pretty rough alcoholic. She brought home a lot of guys after she kicked my dad out. And he wasn’t even really my dad, Giles, but he was close enough. So when I was like thirteen I got fed up, and I left. It was the stupidest thing I ever did as a kid,” she laughed at herself. “But I thought I was so cool. I was clueless. I ran away with no plan, and I wasn’t prepared for anything. There was this really nice guy who found me. I thought he was amazing, and the timing was perfect. I was lost, I was alone, and magically he showed up. So I went with him. Things got a little hazy for a while,” she frowned and closed her eyes. “Turns out he was the guy who picked up the girls, and then we all ended up tossed in together.” Drama kept her hand on Faith’s chest, feeling her breathe, feeling the vibration of the words as they came out. “They used us for things…” she leaned into Drama just a little, not wanting to elaborate too much. “Sometimes girls would disappear. They wouldn’t come back.” She cleared her throat and a line appeared between her eyebrows. “Sarah and Helena were tough. Like me. We would fight back, get knocked around. But we stuck together. It didn’t make them stop, but we had something to make it back to. And that’s probably why they couldn’t sell us off like they did with the other ones. I made this plan,” she gazed off into the distance wistfully. “I had a way to get us out, and we were willing to die trying. Anything was better than being there. But we didn’t even know where we were or what state we were even in. They moved us around all the time, always in different places. We were in California at the end, so at least it was warmer, but we didn’t know that and we would have been lost, and we probably would have ended up in the same shit again if it hadn’t been for Rosenberg.” The look on her face was filled with so much anger, but something else mingled with it at the edges. “I didn’t hate her back then. She showed up, and suddenly everything I’d been planning could work, and so we went for it.” She shifted her eyes and looked into Drama’s. “I remember how it felt to run for the first time in months. The pavement under my feet was so rough. But I didn’t stop. We ended up someplace she’d found to hide us in. We were just this bunch of stupid, incredibly lucky girls hiding out in a half constructed house up in the hills somewhere, and she kept us alive and safe.” She took another deep breath. “I wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t shown up.”

Drama kissed her forehead and breathed into her hair. She didn’t let go.

“I didn’t want to go back to my mom, and the sisters didn’t have anyone, so Will set things up to keep us off the radar. She’s just always had this knack. It’s like irritating and useful at the same time.” She shook her head. “And I must have said some stuff to her that gave her ideas, and before I knew it, she had found Giles.” Drama watched Faith’s face light up. “And he came running, all for me, and I had him back. I had something for me in the first time ever.” Tears were building up along her lower eyelids. “But he saw the three of them, and they needed him, too.” She sniffed and wiped the back of her hand along her eyes. “Rosenberg’s parents were assholes, and she was better off without them. She bonded with Giles like overnight. They were so perfect together.” The bitterness in her voice was terrible, and she hated the part of herself that wouldn’t let it go after all this time. “And the longer we spent together the worse it got. We did a lot of good things, though. And it turns out Giles had some talents he taught us. He kept us safe.” She leaned back against the cushions again, staring up at the dark ceiling. She didn’t even know what time it was anymore. “I gave it some time, but I couldn’t shake the thought of all the other girls we had left behind when we ran from that hellhole. When I brought it up, everybody else thought I was crazy. They said we couldn’t bring down a group that big, that powerful. But I could see it in Will’s eyes, she wanted to try. She had the skill to pull it off. And we were older, a little smarter. Helena was full-on scary by then. It was like, being in captivity had flipped a switch in her head, and she would never be right unless she had a target to threaten. And Sarah,” she laughed. “She made me look well-adjusted.” 

Drama laughed back at her. It was easier now, knowing how much more they had in common than she could have expected, even though a part of her deep down had always known. She could still see and feel the anger coming off Faith, but it was like vented pressure now. Some part of it was releasing slowly. Her body felt softer in Drama’s arms. 

“I convinced them, and we worked on that case for over a year. It took forever. And Will and Giles and I fought over it constantly. They were so slow!” she shook her arm in the air at the memory of all of her rage. “I just wanted to barge through a door and be a hero, and they kept stalling. I was too stupid to see it clearly. Totally out of character for me, right?” she smiled. “I got my way in the end. Sarah and I worked the interior operation. Once we had the location, things moved so fast. And Will had warned us to drop everything and get out, that the feds were on the way, that everything would be fine if we just left.” She put a hand against her forehead and closed her eyes. “But they were just kids. Young kids. Petra was so tiny and so scared, and I couldn’t leave her there, even with the cavalry coming. I knew what would happen to her, I knew she’d get hurt, and I refused to leave.” She turned her head and looked at Drama. “You’ve read my record. You know the rest.”

She did. And it all made a lot more sense now, knowing how it had happened. Drama wasn’t sure how to interpret everything about Willow, so she let it go for another time. That was between her and Faith anyway. They’d have to figure things out for themselves eventually, and she wasn’t part of that. 

“Phe obviously knows. I worked a deal with her to bring in Petra.” She looked suddenly worried. “I don’t think she’s ready for anyone to know where she came from. I promised never to say anything.”

Drama picked up her phone again and typed. ‘I won’t talk.’ She smiled brightly, letting Faith know it was okay to laugh about it.

Faith did, and she settled into a smile. Her fingers drifted along Drama’s lips slowly. “Why did you stop?”

Drama sighed and frowned. She sat up and shifted on the couch, making Faith do the same. She pulled over the laptop and started typing. Faith watched, and realized this was way more than anyone would ever want to try to put in a text on a phone. And the words just poured out of Andromeda like never before. 

‘My parents wanted a girl when I was born, but they got me instead. And they tried everything to fix me. Dresses, dolls, long hair. But I wouldn’t take any of it. I fought and kicked and got muddy. Cut my own hair. Got in fights. I was angry all the time. I broke things. I made trouble. They yelled and yelled. My mother never knew what my father was doing at night. She would pass out after drinking. He would come into my room.’ She looked up at Faith, desperately hoping she understood.

Faith ran her hands through her own hair. The way Andromeda breathed said it all. It made sense. She leaned her head against Drama’s shoulder and wrapped an arm around her waist. 

‘I don’t have really clear memories of much before I was ten. I don’t want to remember. Sometimes I’m not even sure if Julie was real or if she was imaginary, like I think she was. I remember sleeping in bed with her at night, I remember wanting to keep her safe from him. But she’s not in my other memories. It’s just me. My mother would hit me when I acted up. I’m sure I had concussions.’ She laughed a little at the thought, but Faith just watched her with sad eyes, and Drama realized it wasn’t funny at all to her. ‘They would go away for days at a time. I’d be all alone. So one night I decided to get even. I made this huge fire outside. The heat was incredible. The house caught fire, things got out of control. Trees were burning. My father showed up, and he stopped all of it, but I’d ruined so much. He picked me up and threw me. That’s where the scars are from. I don’t really remember the details.’

Faith slipped her hand under Drama’s shirt and felt the edges of the scars on her skin. She could feel her inhale sharply, as though they still hurt if she thought about it enough. 

‘He wanted me to cry, to talk back, to make things worse. I refused.’ She stopped typing and motioned to her throat. ‘And then I couldn’t remember how. It was just gone. They had me taken away the next day.’

“That’s when you went to juvie,” Faith whispered.

Drama nodded. She kept typing. ‘Things didn’t get better. I was small. I was skinny. And if anyone hurt me, I couldn’t call for help or tell anyone.’

“So,” Faith sat up and felt along Andromeda’s outstretched arm, “you got big and strong to protect yourself.”

‘I was better once I was released, even if I was alone. I figured things out pretty fast.’

“You didn’t go back to them?” Faith asked.

‘Back to being beaten and molested and hated for being queer?’

It was the first time Faith could really feel that sort of intense emotion from Andromeda, and she instantly regretted pushing her to that point. But it was gone as soon as it had flashed to the surface. Faith could see it drain out of her. “No, I’m sorry,” she managed to whisper. “I never see you actually get angry. You’re not angry when you hit. But sometimes I see these moments, and then it washes away and you’re so calm.”

But Drama shook her head and held Faith’s eyes with her own. She took Faith’s hand and pressed it to her sternum. 

“So maybe outside, but not inside?” Faith suggested.

Drama nodded. She typed again, ‘Four years in juvie and a long time on my own after that taught me how to stop being a target. Stay quiet. Don’t draw attention. Don’t react.’

“Practice something long enough and it becomes second nature.” Faith leaned forward and pulled Andromeda into her arms, wishing she had a better way to comfort her. She whispered into her short hair, “You can get mad with me anytime you want. You can get muddy and set fire to things and yell, or you can be excited and laugh and be silly, and I’ll never ever make you wear a dress or grow your hair out. I promise.”

Drama gripped onto her with all the power in her body and tried her best to breathe slowly through the shaking. She hadn’t ever told anyone what she had told Faith. No one else knew. Her face stayed tucked safely against Faith’s neck, breath hot on her skin. And Faith could hear her now, air escaping between her lips making sounds that she had never heard come from her before. She held on so tightly that it felt like they were crashing dangerously into each other over and over, the air pounded from Drama’s lungs and out into the open from her sobs, and they could both hear the f’s, the th’s escaping. She was saying Faith’s name over and over, and Faith could hear it. She could feel it. She could feel the warm dampness of tears running along her neck and shoulder where Drama pressed herself against her, and she finally managed to force it out of her mouth in one cohesive breath. “Faith.”

“I’ve got you,” Faith cried back into her, letting their bodies rock gently. “I’m not letting go. I love you.”

______________________

Faith kept her eyes closed for just a minute longer, enjoying how warm and soft everything around her felt. Her eyelids lifted as a hint of early morning light filtered in, and she looked up at the bare branches of a tree outside the window. The arm slung over her shoulder pulled her closer, and she felt Drama’s breath on her bare shoulder. She closed her eyes again and smiled at just how amazing it felt to wake up next to her.

“Hi,” the quiet voice behind her whispered.

She flipped over quick as lightning. Her eyes were wide. “Hi,” Faith said back, absolutely glowing from the surprise of hearing her voice. She had thought that the night before might have been a bit of a delusion from fatigue and lack of sleep, but the look on Drama’s face now told her that it had really happened. “You certainly know how to wake me up,” she smiled. And the smile she got back was amazing. Faith let her eyes drift over the curve of Drama’s neck, the perfect line of her shoulder, to the edge of the sheet holding back the sight of all of that gorgeous soft skin she could feel up against her own body. “I thought you might disappear for a run or something.” 

Drama shook her head just enough, and her hair fell in her eyes again. She started to reach up to move it, but Faith beat her to it, running her fingers along the side of her face and back behind her ear. Her touch felt absolutely electric, and the grin on Drama’s face was embarrassing and ridiculous. She felt completely stunned to have a beautiful woman in her bed. She looked around quickly, but they hadn’t brought anything into the bedroom for her to write with, not even a phone. ‘Are you hungry?’ she signed, hoping it would make sense. Faith watched her, but her eyes didn’t show the recognition she wanted to see. Fuck. ‘Food?’

“You’re worried about breakfast when we’re still naked in bed?” Faith said with her eyebrows raised in amusement. “Okay, okay,” she put on a serious face, “I know I need to learn some basics. So that was breakfast.”

Drama put her hand on her forehead. She sat up a bit and showed her the sign for breakfast, which was just a little different. 

Faith frowned back. “Was that one breakfast?”

‘Yes, and finally,’ Drama signed in relief. ‘I’m beginning to think it would be easier if I spoke French or something,’ she signed, knowing Faith wouldn’t follow it at all.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Faith laughed, “I have no idea what that was.” She leaned closer, kissing the soft skin below Andromeda’s neck. “How about hungry?” she asked.

Drama reluctantly pushed her away so that she could show her. ‘Hungry.’

Faith watched how she moved. She tried to do the same thing, and her girlfriend smiled at her attempt. “Um, how about want? What’s that word look like?”

And she knew exactly what Faith was up to, but it was impossible not to play into it anyway. ‘Want,’ she showed her. She tried not to blush. Signing something like that naked felt more than a little exposing.

“Oh, I like that one,” Faith bit her lip. “Will you show me need?”

Drama signed it for her, ‘Need,’ settling a little closer to her in the bed. 

Faith drew her in with a soft kiss. “Sounds to me like you want me and need me too much to leave for breakfast just yet.” She felt Drama laugh lightly. She slipped her hand under the covers and around her waist. They fit together perfectly when they kissed, and Faith couldn’t imagine anyone else in the world making her as happy as she was in Andromeda’s arms. She breathed her in as her lips left kisses down her neck, but a sound behind them made Drama shift away from her in a way she hadn’t expected, and Faith had to look up at her. She was incredibly frustrated and apologetic and immediately rolled out of the bed. “Hey! Where’d you go?”

Drama pulled open the bedroom door, and Moose trotted in, looking very ready for his morning walk. ‘I’m sorry,’ she signed, and she opened a dresser drawer for some clothes. ‘I have to take him out. It’s not like I have a yard.’

“I’m going to rename your dog Buzzkill,” Faith grumbled. She pulled the covers back and walked over to Andromeda, reaching around her to search through the drawer.

‘What are you doing?’ Drama signed. She looked around again and still saw nothing to write with or on, but Faith was quite pleased with herself for picking out a pair of warm jogging pants and a long sleeved shirt. ‘There is no way those are going to fit you,’ she signed with a smitten grin.

Faith smirked at her. “Did you just call me short?” She hopped on one leg at a time as she pulled the pants on. “Or are you just mad that our clothing relationship is only gonna go one direction?” Drama snorted out a laugh and ran her hands through her hair, suddenly realizing she hadn’t even looked in a mirror yet, and she probably looked ridiculous. She pulled open another drawer to look for a bra, when Faith’s hands were there again, reaching around her and grabbing hold of what she could fish out blindly. Drama turned with a sudden squeak, trying to take hold of the garment she’d just seen stolen. “No way!” Faith held it behind her back. 

But Drama chased her down when she darted off, throwing them both back onto the bed in a fit of giggles. And as soon as she had Faith back in her arms, she pressed them together for a long kiss, full of longing and need, and they both wanted nothing more than to ignore the damn dog for a few minutes. 

Faith glanced at the giant, fluffy white head resting on the mattress next to them, then to where their hands were tangled together in the bra she had grabbed from the drawer. “I know you’re not gonna let me go walk that dog with you outside braless. So just hand it over, Hayes.” She pushed Andromeda onto her back and kissed her deeply. “Not like I’ll have it on for that long once we’re back, right?” she teased. Drama watched her sit up and pull the rest of her clothes on, completely lost in just how beautiful she was, no matter what she was doing or wearing. Nothing could hide it. “Come on, slow poke,” Faith finally said. 

The air outside was bracing and cold, and memories of the bed they had shared haunted them both as they moved along the sidewalk together. Faith reached for Drama and tangled their hands together as they walked. And the way Drama looked back at her made it nearly impossible for her to look anywhere else. Faith glanced around at the busy neighborhood as they turned a corner, and she realized how different everything looked now that they were together like this. She hadn’t imagined that things could be so easy so suddenly, but here they were, walking the dog together on a Saturday morning like any other couple. The hand holding hers withdrew and was replaced by the end of a leash, and Drama gave her a quick look that said she would be right back, to just wait there with Moose. Faith watched her take off across the street with a quick backwards glance, and Moose took advantage of the moment to pull her along for a good sniff. She wrapped an arm around herself in the brisk air, happy that Drama had let her borrow her favorite retro air force jacket.

Drama glanced back again and leaned against the window of the coffee shop she liked to visit on walks. ‘Hi, Jeremy,’ she signed to her friend behind the counter. 

He smiled back at her, adjusting his glasses. ‘Good morning. The usual?’

Drama blushed a little. ‘Two today.’ She turned again, finding Faith not far away, doing her best to keep up with the dog’s wanderlust. She looked back at the coffee window.

His eyes had followed hers, and he was giving her a big thumbs up once he caught sight of the brunette with the dog. ‘Is that your girlfriend?’ Jeremy signed. She nodded. ‘You weren’t kidding, she’s really cute.’ He tamped the espresso and set to work with cups and shot glasses. ‘Deaf?’ he asked.

‘Hearing.’

He looked back at her, smiling in a different way. ‘No way. Does she know sign at least?’

‘No, and it’s unbelievably frustrating,’ she shook her head with a grin. ‘But she’s worth it.’ She took the two cups and added just the right amounts of cream and sugar to each. 

‘Bring her with you next time,’ Jeremy signed. He tapped the hearing aids behind both ears. ‘I can talk to her if that helps. These are way better than the last set I had.’

Drama agreed and said goodbye, running back across the street. She handed Faith a cup of coffee and checked to make sure she’d been alright without her. When she tried to take the leash back, Faith held it away. “We bonded, I’m good.”

She took out her phone and started typing, holding the phone so that Faith could read. ‘Are you busy today?’

“Hmm,” Faith took a long drink. “Lemme think.” She walked along slowly, looking up at the sky. “Saturday is usually laundry day, which is pretty time-consuming. There might be a pint of ice cream involved, and I have no idea just how much TV I’ve missed this week that I need to catch up on. I could be at it all day. And then I might need a nap after all that work.” She looked sideways. “Did you have something better in mind?”

‘Spend the day with me instead?’ Drama asked nervously. She really had no idea if Faith would want to be around her that much. Her heart was racing. She gulped down hot coffee while Faith read the screen of her phone.

“Like the whole day?”

Andromeda nodded.

Faith stopped walking, and Drama turned to look at her, full of worry that she had asked for too much. “For a girl who took two years to finally ask me out, you sure do move fast.” Drama felt mildly dizzy for how Faith was looking at her. Her smile was intoxicating. She stepped closer, boldly leaning down to kiss her in the middle of the busy sidewalk. She would have pulled her in closer if their hands hadn’t been completely full of coffee and phones and dog leashes, and so she simply had to trust that Faith would kiss her back, would stay right there, wanting and needing her in the same way. She felt Faith’s lips pull gently on her own, definitely wanting more contact. Their lips moved apart just enough for Faith to mumble, “Does this mean I can keep the bra?”

Drama laughed and kissed her cheek. She lifted her phone again. ‘Hell no. You picked my favorite running bra.’

“Well,” Faith hooked their arms together and lead them down the sidewalk again, “I might need help getting out of it anyway. It’s a bit snug.”

‘We are definitely not the same size,’ Drama typed with a big grin. A calendar reminder popped up on her phone just then, and she slowed down to read it. Her shoulders dropped a little, and she glanced at Faith apologetically. ‘I forgot I have a thing this afternoon,’ she used the phone to explain.

“Is it a no girlfriend kind of thing?”

Drama looked at her, and it was suddenly a little harder to breathe. She had used the word girlfriend. Her thumb hovered over the letters, not sure what to type. ‘You want to go with me?’

Faith scowled at her. “Are we spending the day together or not?”

____________________

Faith looked around the parking lot as she followed Drama toward the steps into the long, low building. They had driven north for a little while to get here, but there’d been no discussion of what this was or why they were here. Drama seemed incredibly nervous about the whole thing, which only built up more mystery around it. This looked like a busy place for a Saturday, and Faith had to immediately lift her arms out of the way as a hoard of small kids ran past her the moment she walked in the door. They stopped by a front desk where Drama signed them in and picked out a couple of laminated and brightly colored tags on lanyards for them to wear. Drama’s was orange. It had a big handprint on it. She picked up a blue one with a smiling mouth and lifted it over Faith’s head, tucking it under her hair.

‘Sign for me, speech for you,’ she tried to say, but Faith still looked a little bewildered. 

They passed by a group of adults who said hello in a combination of talking and sign language, then made their way past older kids into a classroom covered in posters and games, so much like her own classrooms in elementary school that Faith felt like she’d gone back in time. It even smelled like glue. “Are we here for a class or something?” she finally asked.

Drama walked her to the back of the classroom where a few other adults were gathering. Faith realized they must be parents. Drama gave her a look, possibly a little worried about her. She reached out to one of the people in the crowd, and he turned around to them. His face was soft and kind, and the skin around his light brown eyes wrinkled just a bit as he smiled at them. Faith noticed his tag was yellow, and it had both symbols on it. Drama had signed something to him, and he was holding a hand out to Faith now. “It’s nice to meet you, Faith,” he said with a warm smile. “I’m Alex.” 

“Oh, hi,” she said in surprise. She shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, too.” And looking around at the group, she realized suddenly that she was the only one with a blue tag. Now it was starting to make a little more sense. Drama gave her hand a slight squeeze, then she walked off to the front of the classroom where most of the children were gathering. 

“Some of the parents like to take a little time off, if you want to join everybody.” Alex inclined his head toward the back door and the table of refreshments in the hallway. “Unless you’d rather stay for story time.” He noticed the lost look on her face and asked, “Have you been to one of these before?”

“First time,” she said with a shrug. She watched Andromeda sit down on the floor with a large picture book in her lap. There must have been twenty kids piled around her, and she guessed that most of them were under six years old. “Is it okay if I stay?”

Alex pointed toward some chairs not far off. They walked over and sat. “Drama is really good with them, and they love how she tells stories.” He sat up straighter and pointed at a little girl in the front with curly red hair. “That one’s mine. Charlotte.” His face was full of love for her. She turned and saw him, waving. Some of the kids were chattering, most were waiting quietly. Drama opened her book and showed them the first page, and she started signing the story to them. “It’s a good way to learn ASL,” Alex went on. “It’s a lot harder to learn to read when you’re deaf. I bring Charlie every weekend. This is her favorite part.” Faith squinted at the pictures in the book and realized the kids were all laughing about a very large fish with a very small hat. And the expressions on Andromeda’s face were so intense and full of energy that Faith couldn’t help but laugh along with all of them. They got to the end of the story, and all of the children put their hands up in the air, wiggling their fingers. Alex did the same thing. He nudged Faith. “Clapping,” he said. She put her hands up, too. 

“This… might be the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen,” she looked sideways at Alex, still feeling a little shy at the newness of everything. “I had no idea she did this.”

Alex shrugged. “Every other Saturday. Marvin takes the other weekends.” They watched Drama bring out the next story, which was a lot more interactive. She would read part of the book, then the kids would sign back to her. When they signed together, Drama pretended that they were way too loud, and all the kids laughed at her antics. “She was here before I started bringing Charlotte. Even the older kids come around for stories sometimes, but they’re off having a dance party or something today.” He turned and smiled at her. “You’re completely new to the deaf community, aren’t you.”

She blushed and cringed a bit. “Does it show that bad?”

He laughed. “Maybe a little.” 

They watched the kids run forward and jump onto Drama, piling on her in a crazy heap. She rolled over playfully and let them attack. Faith watched her peek out between a stack of arms and legs and smile at her. Alex told her about the school, how a lot of the kids there today were enrolled full time for preschool and elementary school classes. The other public schools had programs for their deaf students, but this was an environment that really helped them more holistically, and it gave their families the support they needed to see their kids succeed. This was the first time Faith felt like she was really immersed in Andromeda’s world, and it was a lot to take in. There was so much about this girl that she didn’t know, and it scared her a little. She watched Drama crawl around on all fours with two or three kids at a time riding her back. Everything she had seen before now, at work, spending time with their friends, it had all been in Faith’s world of yelling and talking and doing everything out loud. She took a deep breath and thought about how that must feel, how isolating just a short time in that classroom had felt to her, and she was sitting next to a really nice person who could live in both worlds and interpret for her. Andromeda never had that outside of here. She played with the zipper of Drama’s jacket that she had kept on, breathing in the scent of her everywhere.

Drama caught up with her a little while later once she had read a few more stories. The kids had really worn her out. ‘Doing okay?’ she signed without thinking about it. Faith watched her with a bit of a blank stare. She could see the overwhelm written all over her face. ‘Wait here,’ she signed, this time making sure Faith knew what she meant. She took off at a jog into the hallway, and Faith could see her there talking at an incredible speed with one of the other adults. She came back after another minute, picked up Faith’s hand, and walked them out to the car. She grabbed the notepad on the dashboard and wrote to her, ‘Was that too much?’

“No!” Faith said suddenly. “No, it was…” She chewed on her lip, trying to make sense of everything she had seen. “It’s really cool. You do that every other weekend?” Drama nodded back. Faith stared at her with wide eyes. “Those kids were crazy about you.” She felt herself smiling. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

Andromeda shrugged and looked out the window for a moment. She picked up the pencil and scribbled again. ‘I didn’t know if you’d want to come. And I’m shy sometimes.’

Faith read the page and let her eyes drift up to Andromeda’s face. “I kind of feel like an asshole for not knowing any sign language after all this time.” She glanced back at the building. She felt Drama’s hand on her own, lacing their fingers together. She was shaking her head no, but Faith did the same thing, “No, really, the only sign I feel like I know is the word sorry,” which she showed her, “and that’s because you’re always apologizing for not talking out loud when I’m the one who should just get over myself and learn your language for once.”

Drama stared at her with her mouth hanging open a little. She wanted to argue that Faith was wrong, but she had a really strong point. It gave her a funny feeling in her chest that she couldn’t understand. ‘You don’t have to,’ she finally wrote with her left hand, not wanting to let go of Faith’s hand with her right.

“That’s like another apology,” Faith said with a frown. “You’re always so worried about how hard it is for me that you don’t talk, when I should be the one seeing how hard you work to tell me everything. You apologize for being quiet or for using sign language, for just being who you are, and that’s not…” She struggled to look into Drama’s eyes. “I’m the one who should apologize. And I am sorry.” Her eyes dropped to their hands, and she took a long breath, letting it out slowly. “I’m sorry.”

She watched Andromeda put the notepad down and shift in her seat. Her left hand moved around to Faith’s shoulder, along her neck and just behind her head to wind her fingers in Faith’s long hair. Her green eyes found Faith’s, and she leaned close, just letting their faces brush against each other. Drama’s lips were so soft and delicate that Faith couldn’t help reaching for her, wanting more. Their breath mingled over their lips, and Faith felt the ache in her chest lift. Andromeda kissed her slowly. Faith suddenly hated everything about the car, because it was keeping her from climbing into Andromeda’s lap, keeping her from being closer, from having the contact she so desperately needed. She pressed their foreheads together. “You are so beautiful,” she whispered. 

Drama hadn’t thought it was possible to fall in love more, but Faith proved her wrong. She pulled her hands free, running a finger down Faith’s cheek to give them some space, then looked into her eyes steadily. She signed several words very, very slowly, drawing out the motion as much as possible. ‘Have dinner with me?’ Faith concentrated and watched her sign it over again. Drama finally pointed at the arm with her watch on it, and held up seven fingers.

“Dinner?” Faith said hesitantly. She got a big smile in return. 

The pad of paper was back in Drama’s hands. ‘You should wear something nice. I got us a table already.’ She pointed to the building again. ‘My friend Patrick owns a place in Columbia City.’


	16. Chapter 16

December 2012

“You have never withheld details from me before,” Petra said with a mouthful of rice. “What’s gotten into you lately?” Faith poured more teriyaki sauce over her chicken. “You’re starting to act like her.” Faith’s eyes flicked up quickly, and Petra shook her head derisively. “Yeah, exactly. All quiet and staring and shit.”

“She’s not that quiet,” Faith finally said.

“Oh my god, she’s mute, Faith!” Petra threw her chopsticks down in frustration. 

“No she’s not,” the other woman said calmly into her plastic cup of beer. Petra put her head in her hands. “We went to dinner,” she mentioned sideways, looking out the window at the people walking by in the rain.

“Where?”

“Medusa. That Sicilian place on Rainier.” She couldn’t keep from smiling a little. “It was… really romantic.”

“Oh,” Petra looked at her with wide eyes. “That is a nice place. She’s got good taste.” She picked up her chopsticks and popped more chicken in her mouth. “Did she pay?”

“Does that matter?” Faith looked at her over her beer.

“Absolutely.”

Faith sighed. “Well she did, but apparently she also knows the owner.” Petra stared at her again. “They brought out this amazing dessert, which is saying something after the dinner that was maybe the best thing I’ve ever eaten.” She waved her chopsticks over her teriyaki plate. “They were those little cookie tube things with cream inside.”

“Cannoli,” Petra reached for Faith’s beer and got a not-too-subtle slap on the hand.

“Yes, that.” Faith leaned closer and raised her eyebrows. “Fuck, those things are good.”

“Are you just in love with her because she feeds you?”

Faith moved her head up and down a little. “Possibly.” But she was smiling in a way that Petra knew wasn’t a joke at all. “It’s a bonus.”

Yeah, she was glowing. And Petra wasn’t sure if she was okay with this or not. She’d had Faith all to herself for so long that the thought of sharing her now was painful and unexpected, but she really liked Drama, so it was sort of impossible to decide how she felt about anything anymore. She knew that something had changed, and she was terrified at what that meant. Change was rarely a good thing. “You wanna go out tonight? Hit the clubs? Dance a little?”

“Not tonight.”

Petra stared at her and silently wished for laser beam eyeballs to cut through her and get the truth out easier. “Are you spending the night with her again?”

Faith shrugged and looked out the window at the rain which was really coming down hard. “Maybe.”

“For real?” Petra almost came out of her chair. “When is the last time you even slept at your own place?” Faith looked at her like she was insane. “And we never go out anymore. You’re always being a responsible adult or something,” she said the words like they were poison she needed to spit out of her mouth. “Is the sex really that good?”

Faith watched her rant with so much patience that it made Petra feel even more riled up by the end of it. Faith took another bite, super slow, and spent so much time chewing that Petra thought her next birthday would come before she said another word. “I’m beginning to think you’re jealous,” she said after a long time. Petra fumed at her. Faith mixed her rice with her fork. “And the sex is really fucking amazing.” Petra snickered at that comment. “Listen, I love you like a baby sister, and we will always be besties. Okay?” She watched Petra slump down on her stool until her cheek was smooshed onto her fist with her elbow on the counter. “But I’ve been dying to be this close to Andromeda for what feels like forever, and now that I have that chance I’m not letting it go.” Petra could see the look in her eye, that thing that had been growing for so long which had blossomed and completely taken over, and it made Faith so beautiful that she had to look away. “I’m not going anywhere,” Faith tried to soothe her. 

“Except to her apartment.”

“Every single night until she tells me no.”

“Andromeda,” Petra said, sounding just like Faith. “That’s a mouthful in the heat of a passionate moment.” She grinned and watched Faith pull her hair back with both hands.

“Rolls off my tongue just fine,” Faith said with a dreamy look. 

Petra leaned against her shoulder and laughed a little. “Do I get to call her that?” Faith just shook her head and dropped her cheek down lightly onto Petra’s hair. “Everything’s gonna change now, and I don’t even know how to talk to her. We’re like that box of frozen peas with the Jolly Green Giant and the stupid Little Sprout guy, and I always have to be the stupid sprout.” She sat up and looked at Faith with a frown. “Does she make fun of me for being short?”

“I know this will be hard for you to hear,” Faith wrapped an arm around her friend, “but we don’t actually talk about you. Or anybody.”

“But you talk.”

Faith shrugged. “A lot.”

Petra rolled her eyes. “About…?”

“I don’t know,” Faith glared at her. “Whatever makes sense in the moment.” She looked off into the distance and thought of Andromeda smiling at her, holding her hand, taking her through all the parts of her life that she hadn’t known existed. “She has…” Faith struggled with explaining herself. “The way she looks at the world is just different, and I like it. She’s funny and sincere and smart, and she cooks for me.”

Petra sighed. She poked at her chicken with a single chopstick. “Does she make you eat vegetables?”

“I haven’t given in to the kale cult just yet,” Faith smiled. “But she does make pancakes from scratch, and she buys real maple syrup.” She glanced sideways at Petra as they finished their lunch. “And sometimes when she’s cooking she does pullups and lets me watch. Oh my fucking god, those arms.” She looked up at Petra and knew she was laughing, too.

“You’re like a broken record,” Petra nudged her back with a grin. “So when do I get to come over?”

Faith frowned at her. “Never,” she said through a mouthful of rice and sauce. “Can we go back to how long it took for me to get her to agree to going on a date? You are not getting to gate-crash my romance for some lame excuse like movie night or doing our nails together just so that you can get the inside scoop on her. Forget it.”

“Tara likes movie night,” Petra said without making eye contact. 

She could feel Faith bristle next to her. “Does she now,” it came out as a statement and not a question at all.

“And Willow is totally cool with it,” Petra kept pushing. 

“Mm,” Faith answered, taking another bite. “I’m not sure Rosenberg actually knows what to do with a hot girl, so your argument isn’t valid.”

“And Tara gives me all the details,” Petra said with a perfectly straight face.

“Now I know you’re lying,” Faith finished off her beer. “Was she living in commune of nothing but ugly people for ten years to think that hooking up with Red was a good idea? How do couples like that even happen in the real world?”

“Oh, come on, Willow’s cute,” Petra laughed at her.

Faith glared back. “I just finished an entire plate of chicken teriyaki. Please don’t make me puke.”

“What’s your problem with her?” 

“I’d really rather not get into it,” Faith pushed her plate away. But she could still feel Petra’s eyes on her. 

“She’s cool with you and Drama dating. Mostly anyway.”

Faith pressed her hands into the counter. She turned her whole body to look at Petra. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” Petra stared at her with her mouth open. “You told her? You promised me you would keep your mouth shut! Does a promise mean nothing to you?” She was almost yelling. “I am not ready for everybody at work to know about this. Andromeda is completely not ready for that. I fucking can’t believe you did that!”

“Hey,” Petra fired back, “it wasn’t me. Scotty was joking, and Willow guessed, and one thing lead to another, and Drama almost shit herself over the whole thing, so stop looking at me like I betrayed you, which I did not! I have held onto this secret for you for I don’t even know how many months, through all those nights of you crying over her, when it would have been really easy for me to-”

“Wait,” Faith cut her off, “Scotty knows, too?” Her eyes were wide, and she started breathing hard. “Fuck.”

“And Tara, too, obviously,” Petra said apologetically. 

“Not helping,” Faith pointed an accusing finger in her face. “When the hell did this happen?”

Petra scowled at her and pursed her lips. “Duh, Thursday night. I thought you said you two talk all the time. You’re telling me Drama didn’t mention this?” Faith frowned and looked down at her hands. “So you’re busy tearing me a new one when your girlfriend is the one who screwed this up, and then she didn’t even come clean about it? Yeah, your communication in this relationship is stellar.”

“Sorry,” Faith whispered. 

“Whatever.” Petra slumped onto the counter. “Please don’t be mad at me. We all agreed not to say anything, and I know Scotty won’t break his promise. He likes Drama, and I think he might be a little scared of you.”

Faith rubbed her face with both hands. Her heart was racing in her chest. “I don’t get why she didn’t tell me.”

“Gee, what with your reaction to thinking I was the one who spilled it, I can’t imagine why she might hold that back,” Petra mocked. “She honestly didn’t mean for it to come out like it did, but you know she has the absolute worst poker face. Half the time nobody even notices that she doesn’t talk. Everything is written all over her face, especially when it comes to you.” Faith looked at her with a worried expression. “And how long did you think you could keep going like this anyway? Maybe you should thank her.” Petra’s dark brown eyes pierced right into Faith’s. “Unless you’re not really ready to admit how you feel about her outside of her apartment.”

____________________

Faith leaned up against the side of her building and stared at her phone. Drama’s text was still there on her screen. She’d read it over a dozen times already. The air around her was crisp and clear. The rainstorm from earlier in the day had washed everything clean, and now there were no clouds. It was already pretty dark. She looked at the phone again. 

‘Can we talk? I’ll pick you up at 6. Wear a warm coat and a hat.’

She sighed and chewed on the end of her thumb and watched the cars move up the street. One set of headlights pulled over to the curb in front of where she was standing. She saw Andromeda watching her, waiting for her to get in. Faith opened the door and stayed on the sidewalk, conflicted with all of the emotions that had been tearing their way through her all afternoon. Petra’s words had left her feeling defenseless and raw, and she was sure Drama could see that now in the way she couldn’t get her body to move.

Andromeda watched her. Faith looked tortured, and she wanted nothing more than to reach for her, but the distance was too far. She set the parking brake and leaned as far as she could, extending her arm out flat into the passenger seat, palm up. And she waited.

“I had lunch with Petra, so I get it,” Faith’s voice felt hollow in the frigid air. “I just don’t know why you didn’t tell me.” The hand stayed right there, completely steady, and Faith watched her. She could see her own breath fogging up around her, and the warmth from inside the car wrapped around her knees, making her want to sit down so badly that her back started to ache. But for as much as she wanted to put up some kind of fight, she couldn’t look away from Andromeda’s eyes, and everything about her pulled Faith in until she felt the door handle closing in her hand and the seatbelt running over her shoulder. “If I ever have to say no to you, I am completely fucked,” she laughed at herself bitterly. She glanced behind her and saw the dog curled up on the backseat. He wagged his tail at her. She reached back and scratched his ears.

Drama signaled and pulled the car out into traffic, heading straight for the nearest freeway entrance a few blocks away. She turned the volume up on the stereo. Faith smiled at the Pixies album Drama had picked out. She hadn’t heard it in a long time. She hummed along as the highway moved under the car tires along Interstate 90 for several miles. Once they were clear of the lights of the suburbs and climbing higher through the foothills of the Cascade Mountains, Drama pulled off onto a forest service road that wound its way higher, through tall stands of fir and cedar and hemlock. The headlights glanced off of movement as a pair of deer crossed the road in front of them, and Drama slowed down. 

“This is an interesting way to have our first real argument,” Faith said quietly from the passenger seat. “Lots of places to hide bodies up here if we don’t agree with each other…” She gave Drama a wary look, but they both smiled after a second. The car stopped in a clearing, and Faith could see signs for a trailhead. “You do realize it’s pitch dark, and it’s December, and I’m not wearing hiking boots, right?”

Andromeda nodded. She knew Faith had no idea what they were doing up there, and she enjoyed watching her try to figure it out. Sometimes not talking worked to her advantage. She turned the car off and pulled her phone out of her pocket, writing Faith a quick message to wait in the car for a few minutes while she worked. And Faith watched her get out, open the back end, and take a few things out in the dim light from the inside of the car. Moose whined from his seat, looking like he was ready to get out and explore a little, so Faith attached his leash and walked him out to the trees. She glanced back after every few steps and saw that Andromeda had assembled a large folding cot on the ground with a couple of down sleeping bags rolled out on top. 

She walked over and sat at the edge of the bumper. “Isn’t there usually a tent involved in camping?”

Drama smiled up at her, then motioned for her to come closer. She folded one of the sleeping bags open. Faith handed her the leash to tie to the trailer hitch, and the dog settled down happily on the cold ground. Drama pointed at Faith’s feet.

“Yeah, yeah, I know the rules. No shoes in bed.” She pulled off her boots and scooted into the warmth of the sleeping bag. It was a nice change from the frosty air. Drama was right next to her, zipping the bags together. Faith rolled sideways and leaned on her elbow. “So you got me out here, alone with you on the side of a mountain in the middle of nowhere, freezing my ass off. Are you ever gonna tell me what this is about?”

Drama let out a really big sigh. She pushed Faith’s shoulder gently, rolling her onto her back, then leaned in, letting her lips drift against Faith’s gently. She reached out to pull the sleeping bag around her closer. Apparently hats were not Faith’s thing, and Drama was afraid she would feel the cold a little too much being at that elevation.

But Faith had forgotten the temperature as soon as Andromeda kissed her. She looked up at the concern in her face and smiled back, playing with the ends of her short hair that peeked out from under her warm hat. “So you’re kind of good at apologies.” Drama relaxed. She settled in next to Faith, resting her head on her shoulder, and pointed up at the sky. And that was the first moment Faith had even noticed how bright the stars were out there with no light pollution, no houses, no highways. She stared in wonder, and the warmth of Andromeda’s breath on her neck felt so good that her arms pulled the girl in closer, needing to feel the contact of their bodies together. Her eyes picked out the brightest stars, and she tried to remember which ones should be part of which constellations, but most of that was lost to her with just how many she could see, and even the fainter ones blurred in her vision as she looked up.

Andromeda pulled her phone out and moved her shoulders around so that she could type with both thumbs. It wasn’t perfect, but at least they could still talk and be close. ‘This was the first place I came camping after things in my life calmed down a little. Sleeping outside for fun felt silly at first, but the quiet was nice, and I like being outdoors.’ 

Faith looked from the phone back to the stars. “I’ve never done this. It’s beautiful.”

‘I’m not very good around people,’ Drama kept typing. ‘Most people shout at me. They think I’m deaf.’ Faith read her words and felt the tension in the girl’s shoulders where her arm wrapped around them. She’d seen it happen more than once, and she knew that was one reason Drama was reluctant to use sign language out in public. The sticky notes she carried around in her pocket were far more useful for most things. ‘Deaf people can’t understand me either since I can hear just fine. Most of them think I’m deaf anyway. Sometimes I play along. I don’t belong in either place.’

“Does anyone else know… that you can talk?” Faith held her breath, unsure if Andromeda would even answer her.

She felt Drama’s arm wrap around her waist. She snuggled in closer on her shoulder, and her head moved gently. No.

Faith hugged her and stroked her shoulder affectionately as they gazed up at the stars together. “Do you want anyone else to know?” She felt her breathing change quickly and knew she didn’t want that at all. “No,” Faith hugged her a little tighter. “It’s fine. Just me is good anyway. I like being special.”

Drama laughed against her, completely in love with the sensation of Faith’s arm holding her close, comforting her.

Somewhere far off they heard the sound of something moving in the darkness, calling out, flying or running. Faith felt a little nervous. “You came up here alone?”

Drama nodded. 

“Weren’t you scared?” Faith tried to look at her sideways, but they were so close that it was difficult to see her expression clearly. 

‘Of what?’ she typed on her phone. 

Faith moved a little so she could look into her eyes. “Cougars? Bears? I don’t know. Critters that want to eat you,” she laughed a little. There were stories every year of hikers who went too far out and got lost, injured, attacked sometimes. It wasn’t uncommon at all in those mountains.

‘Not as scary as people.’

She read Drama’s words twice over. That made sense, but she still had to think about it, about what it meant to Andromeda. Faith knew that people could be terrible. She had enough firsthand experience with that. But she had seen how Drama reacted to large groups, the way she moved differently when people got close to her. And for as much as she had paid attention, there was obviously more there that she hadn’t understood. 

Andromeda moved sideways, lifting herself up a little so that they could face each other. ‘I didn’t mean for everyone to find out about us,’ she used her phone to say. ‘I’m sorry.’ The look of agony on Drama’s face was so clear.

Faith lifted her hand slowly and used one finger to draw a line slowly from Andromeda’s forehead, along the bridge of her nose, over her lips, and she sighed as her hand worked its way along her jaw and to the back of her neck. “I think it just scared me a little. We’ve spent so much time trying to figure out how to get here that I didn’t think about there being something that comes next.”

Drama looked down and typed quickly with her bottom lip tucked in between her teeth. She held up the phone. ‘Do you want that?’

She sat up a little. “Of course I do,” she said suddenly. “You think I don’t?” Her hand was still there at the back of Andromeda’s neck, fingers tucked up under the edge of her hat and so warm that she couldn’t imagine anything better than holding her. “Don’t you?”

Drama nodded yes over and over. Her hand shot out and grabbed the front of Faith’s down jacket, pulling it tight in her fist. “Yes,” she whispered softly. She wanted to say more, so much more of what was inside of her, and it broke her heart that it felt so far out of reach. 

And Faith watched her shift and struggle, desperately trying, so clearly wanting to give her more of her voice. Faith could read it all perfectly on her face. And that was reason enough to be scared to talk about any of this, because somehow all of it was wrapped up in their need to be able to talk to each other, which was the one thing Andromeda couldn’t reliably give her. So Faith pulled her closer, kissing her softly. “You know I love hearing your voice,” she said against Drama’s lips. “It’s the most beautiful thing I have ever heard, and I can’t pretend that I don’t need it at least a little.” She gave her a cautious smile, and Andromeda’s green eyes held her captive. “But I need you more. I need this,” she pressed their foreheads together. “I need you hauling my ass out of the city, up to some obscure place with beautiful stars and you right next to me, giving me the chance to see that maybe you need a little more.” She took a deep breath. “More of me saying that I do want this. I want to call you my girlfriend, out loud, and I don’t care who hears it.”

Andromeda stared at her and felt her heart pounding out a crazy rhythm in her chest. It was a little hard to breathe. She relaxed the hand holding onto Faith’s coat and opened it, pressing her palm to her chest. She could feel her inhale and exhale, and it slowed things down to a manageable speed for her. She wanted to reach for her phone, to type something, and there were so many things in her that were desperate to get out that she didn’t know what the most important thing to say was anymore. But Faith was right there, breathing just next to her, and she couldn’t bring herself to let go or give any space between them.

Faith watched all of those unspoken emotions flicker through her features, and it was as though she could feel all of the tension Drama held inside of her around the words she couldn’t get out. “Can I try?” she offered. She pulled her hands away, and Drama watched her nervously, even though Faith was smiling. Faith did her best to remember what her hands were supposed to do, and she signed slowly, feeling more than a little silly about how she must look. ‘I… want… you,’ she signed. ‘I… need… you.’

Andromeda smiled with her entire face and took Faith’s arms in her hands, pulling them up around her neck to hug her. She put her own arms around Faith’s waist, wrapping them around her back. She was still nodding and smiling when Faith kissed her like it was the first time they had ever touched. The feeling of their lips together was like electricity, and Andromeda poured everything pent up inside of her into that kiss, pushing Faith back into the sleeping bag nest of warmth. They both lost track of how long they had been outside in the midst of the forest as they moved against each other softly and slowly, but Faith looked at the sky in moments when Andromeda was covering her neck in long, slow kisses, and the only constellations she knew were completely out of sight from where they had started earlier in the evening. 

“We can’t stay out here all night,” she teased, refusing to take her hands out from under Drama’s shirt. “And I think it’s way below freezing. Your dog needs a sleeping bag.”

Drama lifted her head and glanced at Moose. He had fallen asleep with his tail over his nose. Then she pointed at the car, motioning something she thought Faith would understand.

“Wait, you brought booze out here, and you waited all this time to mention it?”

Andromeda smiled at her and shook her head. But they both knew they had to get up. It would be so much colder outside of the sleeping bags, and the thought of leaving the body heat they were sharing was tough to swallow. She kissed Faith one last time, giving her a firm bite at the side of her neck when she tried to pull her back in for more. Nope, she shook her head again.

And once they were in the car, she reached behind the front seats to where she had stashed a couple of insulated mugs of hot cocoa. She handed one to Faith as she started the engine. Everything was freezing, and Faith wrapped her hands around the mug hoping it would help. The cocoa inside was blisteringly hot, but she drank it anyway. “Woulda been better with some whiskey…” she said in a sing-song voice. And the way Drama laughed, Faith knew she had gotten exactly what she wanted. She watched the headlights shine off of branches and tree trunks as Drama turned them around and made her way down the steep, windy road back toward the highway. “So…” She stared at the mug. “Work tomorrow.”

Drama sighed and looked at her briefly. She seemed nervous.

“We obviously don’t have to change anything,” Faith tried. But she knew that so much had changed between them that it would be impossible to hide it completely. They turned off the end of the gravel road onto pavement. “Maybe I should just ask Phe for a reassignment,” she mumbled at her window.

The car skidded to a complete stop on the dark roadway. Faith’s head jerked forward slightly with the motion, and she turned to look at Drama with wide eyes. “That sounds like a firm no.”

Drama shook her head. Definitely no. They stared at each other for a moment, until Drama took a deep breath. She put the car back in first gear and started rolling. She gripped the steering wheel and turned her hands forward and back, then pulled at her hair with her right hand, glared sideways at Faith, and shook her head just a bit. It was a pretty clear, ‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding me with that shit.’

Faith chuckled a little. “Are you sure I need to learn ASL?”

Drama sighed again, but the corner of her mouth lifted into the hint of a smile. She shifted again, then lifted her hand, reached for Faith’s, and placed it on her thigh. The road was too unpredictable for them to hold hands, but this kept them connected.

“We really shouldn’t let Ophelia know… if we can avoid it,” Faith spoke again once they were gaining speed on the interstate. Her eyes flicked to Andromeda who had a concerned look on her face. “Except I think she already beat us to it.”

Drama turned to look at her and rested her hand on top of Faith’s, holding her quietly. Murdock knew. She was sure of it. And neither of them wanted her to have that sort of leverage over them. It had already hurt them enough. There wasn’t much traffic heading back into the city this late at night. Drama used her right hand to spell out “C-L-A-U-D-E.”

Faith frowned as she worked out each letter. Her eyebrows lifted once she got it. “Yeah, good point. God, that girl is cunt.”

Drama snorted, smiled more than she meant to, and shoved Faith’s shoulder with her right hand. She pointed and signed with one hand, but Faith just stared at her without understanding. She rolled her eyes, clearly exasperated. 

“What?! I don’t get it,” Faith glared at her.

Out of options, Andromeda leaned over and put her hand between Faith’s legs, grabbing her so firmly that Faith had to take hold of the door handle to steady herself. And the look in Andromeda’s eyes was pure fire. She let go, leaving Faith completely shocked. Drama signed Claude’s name again, shook her head no, and pointed to where she had just grabbed Faith. 

“Oooooh… kay,” Faith breathed out the tension in her body. “I mean, that was definitely clearer.” She pushed her loose hair out of her face and felt so suddenly warm that she reached out to turn the heat in the car down. “I assume that insult is off the table?”

Andromeda nodded, finally satisfied that she’d gotten through. She glanced back at how Faith was still recovering from her abrupt touch, and it made her blush just a little. 

“I’m fine calling her a dick instead, if that’s better,” Faith finally laughed. “And you are so lucky you’re driving the car right now,” she said with a very clear look in her eyes. She leaned back and put her elbow up at the edge of the window, sticking the tip of her thumb in her mouth to chew on to relieve some of the tension from how quickly Andromeda had turned her on.

Drama signaled for the freeway exit. She slowed the car down and fidgeted with how to ask Faith if she wanted to go back to her place for the night again. They hadn’t talked about that yet, and they both knew the next day at work would be complicated. She glanced at the clock. It was getting close to midnight.

But Faith fidgeted a little, as well. She glanced sideways once they moved through the intersection and watched Drama concentrate on changing lanes. She cleared her throat, and then immediately forgot what she had worked out to say. “This was really nice,” she finally managed. Drama smiled back at her in a shy way. She made one more turn and then pulled up at the curb outside Faith’s building. 

Drama pulled the parking brake. She grabbed her phone from the console and looked cautiously at Faith as she typed. ‘I liked spending the weekend with you.’

Faith read her text and looked thoughtful for a long moment. Still considering the things in her head, she said, “I feel like we’re somewhere between a couple of weeks and a couple of years together, and if I had to pick out an anniversary date, I’d be a little stuck. But I do know that you’ve been my girl for so long that it seems sort of ridiculous to spend too many nights apart.” 

Drama gave her a terribly shy smile, and it made Faith feel like she was glowing inside. She lifted up her phone again. ‘I thought you would laugh at me when I told you I have an empty drawer in my bedroom waiting for you.’

“I’m sure I should say something about a U-Haul truck,” she grinned.

‘I know it’s not every night,’ Drama typed with a shrug. 

Faith looked at her with a frown. “It’s not?” When Drama lit up again, Faith unbuckled herself and climbed awkwardly toward the driver’s seat and kissed her passionately. “Five minutes?” she asked in between kisses. “I’m pretty sure you won’t let me wear your bra to work tomorrow,” she smiled. She sat back and reached for her door, then stopped abruptly. “I completely forgot one other thing.” She leaned toward Andromeda and thrust her hand in between her legs, stroking her so hard and fast that Drama gasped and sat up straight with wide eyes. When she let go, Drama exhaled a long breath through her lips, blinking rapidly. “Keep that warm for me while I grab a few things inside?” Faith smiled at her.

____________________

Drama parked the car in her usual spot and turned off the engine. She gave Faith a worried look. 

“Stop that,” Faith warned. “Everything will be fine. I’ll be up in a few minutes.” They had already agreed not to walk in together. That was just too easy. “Go on.” She watched Andromeda open her door, and Faith did the same. They looked at each other over the hood of the car, and then they walked in opposite directions. 

The elevator ride up to the fortieth floor seemed too fast, and Drama wondered if she had eaten too many eggs for breakfast. She swiped her keycard and walked into the main workroom, glancing at Petra who was making a new pot of coffee in the kitchen. To her credit, Petra didn’t say anything that would get Drama’s blood pressure up. But she hadn’t looked ahead of where she was walking in time to see that Willow had stepped in her way, and so she plowed straight into her. And this time, Willow hit the floor. 

“Aw,” she groaned as she sat back on the carpet tiles. She looked up at Drama, who was signing apologies to her over and over. Willow stretched out her hand and let Drama pull her up to standing again. “I love Mondays.” She rubbed her back. 

‘Damn. Twice. I’m really sorry,’ Drama signed again.

“Are you related to Katie Taylor?” Willow asked with a pain-filled grimace. Drama just shrugged. “I was going to ask if you had time for an informal meeting this morning.” Willow glanced around. “I think everyone else I need is here. Maybe at nine?”

Drama nodded and shifted the bag on her shoulder, still feeling like she had ruined the morning before it got started. She walked into her office and sat in front of the computer, worrying that all of this was going to be more than she could take. Pan was right behind her, closing the door. She leaned on the wall with her back to the glass, and she glanced nervously back at where Claude was sitting in the workroom. “She is already fired up today, what with Willow putting together a mystery meeting. Nobody knows what it’s about.”

‘I don’t know either.’

“Okay,” Pan said, and then she looked around again. “Isn’t Faith coming back today?”

Drama tried her best to give her a blank stare, but she had to look away quickly. Pan was her best friend, and they’d barely talked at all over the weekend. The guilt building up in her was more than she could take. She closed her eyes and signed super-fast, ‘She’s my girlfriend now.’ She opened her eyes to see how Pan was taking the news, but her friend was looking over her shoulder at something happening outside the glass.

“Holy shit,” Pan mumbled. Drama stood up and looked out with her. Faith had arrived, and she was standing in the middle of the room facing Willow. Everyone around them was frozen in place.

“So,” she finally said. Her posture was so tense that Petra, who was right beside her, thought she might jump across the workroom in full attack mode. She looked Willow up and down, and Willow glared right back. “New job, new team. Same shit, though. Right? Like nothing ever changed.”

“Just following your lead,” Willow lifted her head a fraction. “Nice that you stopped dressing like a stripper, though. The professional look is refreshing.”

“Well, well,” Faith smiled at her. “Look who grew some claws.” She folded her arms together. “This’ll be great. We can do lunch. Be buddies.” Her face grew puzzled. “Or are you gonna be super busy running off to hide from all those charges you should have faced?”

That hit Willow hard. The look on her face was crushing. “Faith, I-” she tried. She had to clear her throat. “I’m trying to do something good here. That’s why I stayed. This isn’t anything like-”

“Do I look like I need this right now, Rosenberg?” Faith stepped closer. “How about you stick to your Dungeons and Dragons game and let me handle the real work. You know,” she smiled, “just like old times.”

“Right,” Willow glared back, full of anger. “Because that worked out so well, what with you ignoring the plan and pushing everybody else out of the way so that you could be a hero.” She took a step closer.

“Isn’t that what you’re doing here now?” Faith fired back. “You walk into this place, trash everything, and I’m betting you think you’re the only one who can put it back together now.” She leaned closer, and pointed right at Willow’s chest. “You should look around, Will. We’re not short on brain power, and nobody on this team is gonna trust you once they figure out who you are.”

“We have a cage on the twenty-third floor if you two need to Mad Max this out of your system,” Claude offered from beside them. 

Faith bore down on her with a look of pure fury. “I’m really ready for you to choke on your own tongue, you little-” She stopped and gritted her teeth, wishing she could glance back at where she knew Drama was staring from their office. 

“You actually stopped?” Willow smirked. “You’ve definitely lost your edge.”

Claude let out a low whistle and gave them both a cruel smile. “I am gonna ship you two so hard all over the socials. You’ll make the best angry sex memes the world has ever seen.”

Willow and Faith both stared at her with wide eyes, and then they looked at each other. Faith broke first, snickering loudly. And Willow was right behind her, bursting into a laugh while everyone else in the office held their breath. “Why does everyone always think there’s something between us?” Faith managed to ask between gasps for air. The change in their demeanor still had everyone stunned when Faith straightened up and leaned closer to Claude. “Word of advice, kid. It’s probably best not to piss off Small Wonder. You really have no idea what she’s capable of.” Her eyes flicked toward Willow and then back again. “But I would love to see you try. I’m into spectator sports.”

“Wait,” Willow held up a hand, “she’s supposed to be afraid of me after that thing you did with the knife and that undercover detective?”

Claude blinked and looked back and forth between them. “Fair. But you bicker like the Golden Girls. And I have work to get done.” She walked back to her desk and sat down, knowing she was defeated. 

Willow spared a casual glance at Faith, who glared back a little. But the edge was gone. They walked away and everyone in the room could breathe again. 

“You sure you still want us together for that meeting?” Scotty looked up at Willow, who had her head in her hands.

But Willow just sighed back, resolved that she had to start taking the lead, which is what Murdock had hired her to do. “Do we have dry erase markers in the meeting room? I’m old fashioned.”

Twenty minutes later, the others had trickled in and were staring at how Willow paced back and forth in front of the oversized frosted glass board. “I’m not used to giving presentations,” she apologized. “I’ll just jump right in. I broke into Vector at seven different points within the first half hour that I had remote access. And none of that work was manual. I set it up, walked away, and came back to almost full database access.” Scotty glanced at Drama, who had gone a little pale. “I think we can do better.”

“Okay,” Boston said with a frown from the back of the room, “but how many people have your skills? We never had any problems until you showed up.”

Petra shook her head at him. “We were vulnerable, which is stupid.” She spared a look at Drama, and said, “Sorry.” Drama shrugged. She knew.

“It wasn’t a bad setup,” Willow looked around at them. She picked up the marker and drew a rectangle on the board. “Most entities build something incredibly simple. Just a box with a strong wall on the outside. And everyone in this room knows how to break through that or work around it. Drama created something entirely different.” She erased the box and re-drew everything, but this time the box was designed as a series of connected circles. “I don’t even know what to call it.” She turned to look at Drama. “Dendriform something?”

She held up her notepad. ‘Fractal columns.’

“That’s just more surface area,” Pan mumbled. “I never understood why she did that.”

Willow looked up at the ceiling briefly, trying to figure out how to explain what she meant. “That’s true, but it creates a misleading series of spaces for someone to get caught up in. It’s confusing. And the distraction buys you time, but only if you know someone is looking for a way in.”

“That just sounds like job security,” Claude snorted. “Speaking of which, if Drama is the one who screwed up, then why are we all in here? I don’t do security.”

Willow took a deep breath and held back the desire to smack Claude. “I’ll get to that, but let’s start with what I want to build.” She pointed at the glass. “What if each of these was a mirrored surface?”

Several of them around the table sat back. Pan was the first one to speak. “Yeah, I don’t get that. Why? So someone can look at themselves?”

“Then why is this meeting room covered in mirrored glass?” Willow frowned at her.

“Secrecy, privacy,” Scotty quirked one eyebrow up.

Drama sat up and looked sharply at Willow. ‘Forced introspection?’ she signed.

“Ooh,” Willow’s eyes went wide, “I don’t know what you just said. Uh…” Drama spelled it for her, and Willow lit up. “Exactly. You’re, um… oddly word-smithy.” They smiled at each other for a moment.

“Can you get past your girl-crush and tell the rest of us what you mean?” Claude snapped at Willow.

Willow drew on the board again, making lines with arrow points facing away from the exterior of the rectangle. “If the boundary is a reflection of the inquiry, it creates a logic assessment of the tool used to initiate the inquiry, and this is a default by-product of almost any intrusion algorithm.”

Claude kept glaring. “This just sounds like a lot of theory, and it would be a ton of work to set up. Why don’t we just make a stronger wall?”

“It’s not even theory,” Scotty scowled at Claude. “This is all hypothetical. I’ve never seen anything like it.” He looked at Mac.

“I mean, it’s innovative,” Mac shrugged, “and trust me, it is truly painful to say this, but I agree with Claude. It would be a massive undertaking.”

But Drama was hooked. She kept staring at Willow with something like awe. She picked up her marker and started writing, then she held up the notepad for the group. ‘Why does every boat have a bilge pump?’ They just stared back at her.

“Because every boat leaks,” Willow smiled, tilting her head to the side. She had hoped Drama would understand her proposal, and clearly she did. “And every perimeter can be breached.” Drama signed something to her with a quizzical look. “Hangon,” Willow put up a hand to slow her down, “say that again?”

The blonde pulled at her hair in frustration. She got up from her chair, walked to the front, and picked up a marker, drawing on Willow’s creation. She added little circles to each of the arrows, then made a box on the side with a pattern of x’s leading to it from each arrow. And she tried again, this time writing on the board. ‘Drop a self-reporting marker on each inquiry. Gather data offsite.’

“Turn their attack into a tail on their own operation?” Pan said quietly. Everyone else in the room looked at her. “That’s the idea, right?”

“That’s brilliant,” Boston smiled up at Drama.

“Brilliant but impossible,” Claude mumbled, looking down at the table.

“Has anyone tried it?” Scotty leaned forward with excitement in his eyes. “You’ve done this before, right, Willow?”

She shook her head. “Why would I? I’ve never had an asset to protect. I only break in.”

“This is just an idea?” Mac looked at her like she was crazy. “I thought we were going to set up something you knew about, something you could teach us.”

“Wait,” Petra waved her hand in the air, “were you seriously expecting the legendary Rebel to walk into the office and be your Zen master?” She looked around at all of them, every one of them older and more experienced than she was. “Or did you need math worksheets to complete at your desk? Dude, this isn’t a college class, and we’re not here to practice. We’re here to work. And if Willow thinks we need stronger security, then we build it stronger.” She looked at the redhead, squinting slightly. “She’s the boss now.”

Willow pointed at her, “Not the boss.”

“Technically, you are,” Scotty shrugged. Willow rolled her eyes at him. “But back to how we actually do this. Is it possible?”

Willow glanced at Drama, who just smirked. “Dunno.” She looked back to Scotty. “Worth a shot at least, right?”

“Still not seeing why I have anything to do with it,” Claude groaned, leaning back in her chair. “If I follow your stupid drawings, you’re asking someone to develop software that doesn’t exist. But I don’t understand that stuff.”

“If you wanna just play on Facebook all day, feel free to write that up for Murdock,” Willow grinned at her. “But I thought you had a knack for forgery. Wouldn’t it be nice to stretch your wings on something new?”

Nobody had ever gotten their hooks into Claude until that moment, and everyone in the meeting room watched it happen in a stunned silence. A couple of them looked back toward Willow, and they started to believe that she really had earned the title of legendary.

She looked at the board again and then at Drama. “I think your idea is good. It could set up a surveillance bucket that might come in handy. That’s better than just shunting the bad juju.”

And Drama beamed back at her. ‘Let’s go play Lego. Build something cool,’ she signed.

____________________

Pan leaned on the counter in the kitchenette with a stubborn frown that hadn’t left her face in well over an hour. Petra walked past and stared at her, stopping by the empty coffee pot. “Haven’t seen you this happy since that time I brought you cotton candy for lunch.” That got a tiny twitch of a smile out of her, but then her face went back to its stony resolve. “I thought I was the only one who got to act like a petulant teenager.”

“You are,” Pan mumbled. “For a few more months anyway.” She looked up and caught Petra’s eye, which only made her feel worse, so she looked at the floor again.

Petra got to work cleaning the coffee pot and setting it up again. She worked slowly and kept an eye on Pan, and she noticed that her eyes kept drifting toward where Willow and Drama were sitting and working together. They’d been at it since well before lunch, and nothing had pulled them away from their work. Petra got out a pair of mugs from the cabinet. “Seems like a stupid thing to be mad about.”

“Not mad.”

“Obviously.”

Pan snorted and looked at Petra with a glare. She wrapped her arms around herself. “We were supposed to go to lunch today.”

“Weren’t you the one who wanted her to get to know Willow?”

“Yeah, but not to start dating her!” Pan snapped. She looked around guiltily, knowing she had gotten too loud.

Petra nodded. She moved over closer to her friend and leaned against the counter beside her, waiting for Pan to rest her head on her shoulder, which she did almost right away. “Change is pretty fucked up. Trust me, I’m still pissed about Faith turning into a lovesick idiot.”

Pan lifted her head and looked at Petra. “What are you talking about? She’s been meaner than a snake lately.”

“Ancient coping mechanism,” Petra smiled back. They both looked at Willow and Drama laughing together at something only they understood. “I’m sure this won’t help, though. Good thing Drama’s tough. I can’t imagine anyone else being able to smooth things over with Faith after being all giggly with public enemy number one.”

“They’ll just do what they always do,” Pan waved a hand dismissively. “You know how they drift apart and come back after a month or two. I have never understood their dynamic.”

Petra turned and looked at her with one eyebrow raised. “Pan, they’re sleeping together like every single night. I think the drifting phase is over.”

Pan gave her a stunned look. “What?” All of the color drained out of her face. She looked back at Drama, who had gotten up to stretch and take a break. She turned and started walking in their direction. Pan opened her mouth to say something, and the look on her face was enough to wipe the smile from Drama’s face completely. They stood like that for a heartbeat, and then Pan turned and walked out without a word.

Drama looked at Petra, hoping to understand what had just happened. But Petra just sighed at her. “What’s the deal with you lately?” She leaned closer, whispering, “I thought she was your best friend. Why wouldn’t you tell her?”

Petra poured herself a cup of coffee and walked away to her desk. Drama watched her go. She looked around the workroom and realized how late it had gotten. When she glanced at her office, she didn’t see Faith. She checked her watch. It was almost four o’clock. The door opened behind her, and she turned to see if Pan had come back, but Faith walked in instead. They stood there in the kitchen together, and Faith wandered closer, finding the edge of the counter to lean on. 

Drama let herself stare a little, and a ridiculous smile crept up on her face. Faith saw it and smiled back, glancing behind Drama to make sure no one else was paying attention. “You’ve been busy today,” she said casually. 

Andromeda shrugged a little, wondering if Faith was upset at her for working so closely with Willow. ‘You’ve been gone,’ she signed, and she drew out the motion to help it make sense. Faith watched her differently now when she was signing, and it made her heart beat a little faster to see her eyes following so much more closely. 

“Me? Out?” Faith mumbled, looking for confirmation. Drama smiled and nodded back. “Yeah, well…” she moved around to find where Willow was leaning over Scotty’s desk, pointing at something on his screen. “Space is healthy, right? Not like she’s leaving anytime soon.” She looked back at Andromeda and saw her panicked expression. Faith ran her hands through her hair. “You’re thinking I’m mad or upset or something, and I’m not.” She sighed and kept her eyes on Drama, waiting for her to relax, to breathe. “I may not like it, but it’s not about you. It’s all her.”

Drama looked around them, made sure they were alone, and then stepped up to Faith, pointing at her chest. Faith reached out and pointed at Drama’s chest, too. But this time Andromeda lifted her hand to the side of Faith’s face and touched her gently. They stood like that, listening to the chatter of everyone working not far away, until Faith cleared her throat abruptly and turned to walk a few steps away. 

“Sorry,” Willow said in a low voice behind them. She looked like she had walked in on something way more private than what it had been, and Drama blushed appropriately. 

“You fucking should be,” Faith snapped back. She rummaged around the in the cupboards looking for something, but she couldn’t think of what she really wanted, other than maybe the right moment to punch Rosenberg for any reason or no reason at all.

“Well if you didn’t-”

“Really?!” Faith whipped around and stuck her face into Willow’s space, making her step back. “Goddammit, it’s just constant with you, isn’t it?”

Willow’s eyebrows pulled together in anger. “Right, because it’s always me starting with the attitude. I can’t even get a word in without you getting in my face.”

“Maybe your face is everywhere right now.” They moved even closer, and Drama watched in horror, knowing this wouldn’t resolve itself well. 

And Faith felt her blood pressure rising like never before. She could feel her fists clenching, and she was so ready to let that anger pour out of her. But just as Willow opened her mouth to spit out another insult, they both had to cover their ears for the incredibly piercing whistle that came out of Drama’s mouth. She still had her thumb and forefinger between her lips when Faith turned to look at her. Everyone in the office had already heard the argument building, but the wolf whistle got them standing, staring. Drama kept her eyes on the two in front of her, and signed slowly and angrily, ‘Grow up!’ She snorted at them and then turned and walked to her office, slamming the door behind her.

Willow stood up a little straighter, edging back from the confrontation. She took a breath and looked at Faith. She was about to tell her what Drama had signed, but the look on Faith’s face showed her it wasn’t necessary. And it was suddenly clear to her that that was exactly what had changed from before. This was why Faith looked different to her now. And she really was different. 

Faith took a step backwards and felt for the edge of the counter behind her. Part of her wanted to refuse, to resist giving in to what Drama wanted, but she knew she was the one who was wrong. She wasn’t looking at things clearly. She was making it more personal than it really was. And self-examination sucked. It sucked almost as much as having to work alongside Rosenberg. “She really likes you,” Faith said against her better judgement.

“She’s… incredibly smart,” Willow gave her a sincere look.

“I know.”

The rest of the workroom had gone back to their desks after Drama had slammed her door, and so Willow took a minute to settle herself in the kitchen as Faith did the same thing opposite her. “She said that you’ve been good.”

Faith folded her arms over her middle. She sniffed. “I have been.” She glanced at Willow. “She said Tara’s nice.” She watched Willow’s expression soften. She could see the hint of a smile there somewhere. “You know she’s just playing us both.” Willow smiled for real. She looked back at the office where Drama was absorbed in her own computer for the first time all day. She felt Faith shift a little and looked back at her. “You take the floor, I take the office,” Faith said in a resigned tone. 

Willow nodded a little. “Are you okay with me and Drama working together?”

Faith wanted to laugh at her. Her smile probably gave that away. “Please don’t flatter yourself. And anyway,” she stood up and started to walk out, leaning close for just a moment, “I trust her. Too bad you don’t know what that feels like.”

Willow watched her walk away, but her words stayed there, hanging in the air around her. 

Faith opened the office door and closed it quietly behind her. She looked at the glass and realized that someone had finally replaced it. She had no idea when that had happened. Drama was typing and didn’t look up, so Faith walked around and sat on the corner of the desk, close enough that she couldn’t be ignored. “You’re right. I was being an asshole.”

Andromeda looked up and pulled her hands off the keyboard. Faith was so close she could feel her warmth. She breathed deeply and smiled at how her long hair smelled like her own shampoo for a change. And that made her smile even more for the outburst that morning that Faith had had over Drama not owning a hair dryer. But the smile dropped as she glanced through the glass at the others moving around, occasionally looking in. She looked away.

“Right,” Faith said, letting her head fall toward her chest. “Here’s the thing. I’ve kind of had a shitty day, and it’s given me a little clarity for once.” Drama looked back at her. “Bottom line, I’m not sure if I give a rip whether they all know or not. And… maybe I’d rather they did know.” Faith looked at her with affection. “Might be nice for a change.”

Drama gave her a mildly worried look. She pulled over the notepad and wrote, ‘What about Claude?’

But Faith gave her a wicked grin. “I don’t care. Unless you’re gonna make me be nice to her, too…”

‘Nope,’ she signed and shook her head. 

“I can’t fix the part about Murdock,” Faith frowned. But she stayed close, and her hand was already there, already holding Drama’s. “Sometimes you just have to take risks.” She watched Drama move in a nervous way, and it gave her a persistent ache in her chest. She had seen that look so many times, and she wanted nothing more than to get past this, back to the girl she had spent the weekend with. “It makes me nervous, too,” she said in a soothing voice. “And if you’re not ready then I’ll keep my distance and try really, really hard not to look smitten with you all the time.”

That got her to smile at Faith. She pushed her chair back and stood up, looking briefly through the glass. Pan was the only one looking back, and the expression on her face was a little sad but a little relieved. Drama let herself fall forward just enough to rest her body against Faith’s, and she dropped her lips down to the top of Faith’s head, drinking her in completely. She wrapped her arms around Faith’s shoulders and tried her best to relax, to feel like this could be the new normal way they were. It felt so good. Faith sank into her chest and hugged her back. “You’re not gonna mess up my makeup, are you?” she felt her mumble against her chest. But when they moved apart a little, Drama noticed that Faith didn’t look quite so defeated anymore. 

Movement caught their attention, and they looked through the glass to see Pan standing there with her back to them. She was holding a newspaper up, spread completely open in front of her, pretending to look for something really important. There was no chance anyone could see them sitting behind her. She turned her head and gave them a not-so-sly wink.

Faith didn’t need to be told twice. She grabbed Drama’s shirt and pulled her close for a passionate kiss, knowing her lipstick would be everywhere. It was worth it. She refused to let go for long enough that Drama had to put a hand on the desk to steady herself from the feeling of Faith’s lips against her own. She couldn’t help the grin on her face after that. She straightened up and glanced at Pan, who was saying, “Wow,” through the glass. Drama snickered at her.

“Oh, yeah, we gotta fix that,” Faith said with some degree of satisfaction as she looked at Andromeda’s face. She leaned back and grabbed a tissue, motioning for her girlfriend to sit back down, to let her wipe the smudged lipstick off her face. “Not sure this is your color, honey,” she smiled as she cleaned off her lips. Drama’s eyebrows quivered a little, and the look made Faith tilt her head in wonder. “What?”

“Honey,” she whispered without realizing it until the word was out. 

Faith stopped and stared at her. The smile she gave Andromeda made the girl’s heart melt. “You’re gonna forget sign language if you keep that up.” They each pushed their chairs back to their computers and sat down to work again. Pan had already drifted off to somewhere else. Faith leaned over to look at Drama one more time. “Are you busy tonight?”

Andromeda leaned her chin on her hand with her elbow on the desk. She nodded, yes.

Faith made a face. “With what?”

The blonde looked around, still feeling a touch nervous, then pointed at Faith. “Honey,” she whispered again.


	17. Chapter 17

December 2012

“I still don’t get the connection between fading away, like Yoda did, versus getting stabbed by a light saber like Qui-Gon Jinn. How is it that some Jedi get to just, like, vanish?” Boston asked with full sincerity.

“They don’t just fade away,” defended Scotty, “they become one with The Force. It’s important.”

“Right, but why?” Boston asked again.

Drama waved hello as she sat down at the long table with the group. She was the last one to show up for lunch. It was Mac’s birthday, so they were all celebrating. Pan smiled up at her as she found her seat. “What took you so long?”

Drama held out an envelope in her hand that had a ‘certified letter’ tag on it. She had just made it back from the post office.

“What’s inside?”

Drama shrugged. She stuffed the letter back in her pocket to look over the menu. ‘Who picked this place?’ she signed.

“Mac, of course. He gets to choose.” Pan looked up very suddenly, and her face went pale. “Holy shit.”

Drama looked up where Pan’s eyes were stuck and saw a dark figure walking through the dining room to their reserved table. Her heart beat wildly. Faith looked amazing in jeans that hugged every curve and a blue sweater draped over her shoulders, falling off the left one so that she could see the skin underneath. She realized with a jolt that the sweater was from her own dresser drawer. She wanted to smile when Faith caught her eye, but she felt more like a deer stuck in headlights. 

Faith sat right next to her by grabbing a chair from a nearby table. “Hi,” she said softly. She glanced toward the others, found Mac, and managed to say, “Happy birthday, kid.” She turned back to Drama with a smile. “You’ve been hard to find today.”

Drama shrugged. She pulled the letter out of her jacket and held it up, as if that could explain her absence. ‘Sorry,’ she signed. She realized she was smiling like a complete fool when Petra caught her eye from the other side of the table, so she ran her hands through her hair to look more casual.

Faith whipped the letter out of her hand and read the details of it on the outside. Admittedly, Drama hadn’t even looked at it since she picked it up. It wasn’t typical to get a certified letter, but she had other things to worry about, like making it to lunch on time. “Who do you know in Idaho?” Faith asked.

Drama took a sharp breath. She grabbed the letter back quickly and stared at it for herself. She shoved it into her pocket again, but her heart was pounding in her chest.

“Wait, what is this about?” Faith whispered to her. Drama shrugged again, trying to look like it wasn’t important. 

“Why don’t you just open the letter?” asked Pan from her other side. Drama looked between the two, not sure what to do now that they were both interested. She had a terrible feeling about the contents of the envelope.

‘It’s Mac’s birthday. It can wait,’ she signed.

“It’ll be ten minutes before they bring out any food,” Pan argued. 

Drama looked back and forth again, from her best friend to her girlfriend. She sighed as obviously as she could. ‘Fine,’ she signed. She pulled the envelope out, tore it open, and opened the letter out to read it. Her face went paler than either of her friends had ever seen.

Scotty noticed the quiet building up at that end of the table. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Faith answered without hesitation. She grabbed the letter out of Drama’s hand and read it for herself. “Oh shit,” she looked at the girl beside her. “I’m sorry, I had no idea. I guess… I thought your father was already dead or something.”

“Wait,” Pan reached across Drama to take the letter for herself. “Your father died? And what’s the rest of this?”

Drama snatched the letter from her best friend with such fury Pan nearly got paper cuts on both hands. She was walking out of the restaurant before anyone else had a clue what was happening. Faith launched herself from her chair and followed at a run. “Hayes!” she called out. It didn’t work. They were outside, briskly moving up the street, heading back toward their office building. “Hayes,” she tried again. Drama wouldn’t slow down and wouldn’t look at her. “Andromeda,” she said with desperation. 

The blonde stopped in her tracks and glanced at Faith. ‘What?’ she signed.

“Look, I’m sorry about that,” she motioned back at the restaurant. “I had no idea-”

Drama looked away and started walking again. 

“Seriously,” Faith yelled at her, “what the hell?” She ran back up to Drama’s side and grabbed her sleeve. Drama spun and pulled herself away defensively. Her nostrils were flaring as she tried to get her body under control. “Would you please just tell me what’s going on?”

‘It’s nothing.’

“Whatever the hell that means, it’s bullshit,” Faith stared her down. 

Drama lowered her hands and forced herself to breathe. ‘I have to go.’

“The fuck,” Faith covered her face with both hands in utter frustration. “I’m stupid, and I’m fucking slow, and I have no idea what you’re saying. But if you think you’re going to Idaho alone for this shit, you’re wrong. I’m going with you.”

Drama just stared at her and swayed in place. She was so confused and in so much visceral pain, she couldn’t walk away or make her body do anything she needed it to. She wanted to sign something, to talk to Faith, but she was stuck, and there was no getting through everything coursing through her. It burned in her veins and made her breathing shallow. 

“It’s just me,” Faith said calmly, pleading with her. “Remember?” She stepped closer and pressed two fingers into Andromeda’s chest, then back into her own. “You and me.” Then she reached out and grabbed Drama’s shirt in her fist. “So stop being an asshole and just agree to let me go with you to fucking Idaho.”

“I’m coming, too!” chirped the tiny voice from behind Faith. They both turned to see Pan on the sidewalk. 

“What the hell are you doing, you little punk?” Faith rounded on her. “This isn’t about you -” But she felt a hand take hers, and she turned to see Drama looking at her with sad eyes. 

‘She’s my friend,’ Drama tried to explain. ‘I’m still going alone.’

“That looks like a successful plan,” mocked Pan. “Listen, both of you,” she pointed to them, suddenly feeling like the only voice of reason, “I know you’re both crazy about each other, so stop pretending. The whole office is going to know if you keep this up. You’re so obvious.” Faith and Drama both blanched a bit, but they didn’t think arguing would help. “And Drama, you have friends. It’s so stupid that you have this whole alone thing going on when everybody clearly likes you.” She put her hands on her hips. “Maybe just this once you could accept the help. You shouldn’t go through all of this on your own.”

“She’s not on her own,” Faith loomed over her. “She has me.”

Drama sighed and squeezed her hand, asking her to relax. ‘Fine,’ she signed to Pan. ‘But this is stupid.’

“Wait,” Pan interrupted her, “my sign is lousy. Do you have family there who knows ASL?”

Drama glared at her. ‘It’s Idaho. Nobody gives a shit about ASL there. Small town anyway.’ Her brow furrowed. ‘I don’t have any family.’ There was something in her eyes that worried Faith, even though she was struggling to hang onto the conversation. Pan wasn’t helping by translating either.

“I think we should pull in the big guns,” Pan nodded, making a plan in her head already.

____________________

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Willow held up her hands defensively. Pan glared at her with her arms crossed over her chest. Petra sank into the office chair between them, her face lit up as she listened in. “You know how Faith feels about me.”

“Yes, but this isn’t about Faith. Drama needs you,” Pan reasoned. “And it’ll only be for a few days. I think it takes almost a whole day to get there, but we’d be back by Monday at the latest.”

“Where are we going?” asked Petra innocently. Her hair was in braids, as usual, and she played with the ends in her hands. “I like road trips.”

“We,” Willow pointed to herself and Petra, “are not going anywhere.”

“Nobody knows sign like you do,” Pan’s face was serious, terribly intense. “She’s going to need you. There’s lawyers and a funeral and all kinds of stuff she has to face, and you can help. She likes you anyway.”

“Great,” Willow’s eyebrows shot up. “Faith is gonna just love hearing you say that.”

“Faith is gonna have to deal,” Pan sat back, knowing she was winning the argument.

“Faith handles stressful situations way better than the two of you combined,” Petra groaned at them. “And she won’t mind if I come along.” Willow and Pan both stared at her. “What?”

Drama sat at her desk in the office on the other side of the glass and rubbed her eyes. Faith was across from her, and her expression wasn’t much better. “Will you please just talk to me?” she looked at Drama, pleading with her eyes. She got up from the desk and paced over to the window, looking out at the city below them. “I get that you’re probably upset to have to deal with this, and maybe it’s just a lot of emotion, or its confusing,” she turned to look at the girl, “but I don’t know what’s in there if you don’t tell me.”

Drama’s head fell into her hands. She stood up slowly and walked to the window, standing beside Faith. They both looked out at the tiny figures walking up 4th Avenue below them. She gently leaned her head to the side until it rested on Faith’s shoulder. She could feel Faith’s body respond, soften slightly. Her brown eyes looked sideways at Drama’s face where it rested against her.

“It’s a damn good thing you’re so fucking cute,” Faith said quietly.

Drama stood up and looked apologetic. She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled the letter back out, opened it, and held it up against the glass of the window in front of them. She pointed to the next-to-last paragraph with her index finger. 

Faith read that section out loud. “The estate of James F. Hayes shall be reviewed on December 20th. This estate is to be awarded to the beneficiary, Julie D. Hayes, pending probate, and notice is herein provided to the estranged daughter, Andromeda S. Hayes.” Faith looked at her carefully. “You want me to guess what the S stands for?” Drama tapped her finger on the other name. “Julie?” Drama nodded and then looked away, letting her gaze follow someone along the street below. “Wait,” Faith’s face went pale. “Julie. Holy shit. You do have a sister.”

Drama reached to her left and picked up the dry erase marker on the top of the filing cabinet. She wrote on the window in front of them. “I left her there. I should have gone back.”

“No, that’s…” Faith looked at the letter again, desperately trying to make sense of everything. But the sort of trauma that Andromeda had been through was bigger than she could grasp. And the way she was staring back, Faith knew she was blaming herself for not knowing or not figuring it out sooner. Drama’s head was against the window. She looked like her whole world was collapsing around her. Faith turned suddenly and looked through the glass at Willow, who was already staring back at her. She gritted her teeth and pointed at her, shouting at the glass barrier, “I fucking hate you, but I need you in here right now!”

Willow jumped out of her chair like it was on fire. She dashed through the workroom around the confused stares of her coworkers and landed in the stark quiet of the office Faith stood in. 

Pan kept her eyes on the three of them in the office, but she leaned over to whisper to Petra, “I have the distinct feeling that we don’t have to worry about keeping their relationship a secret anymore.”

“Look,” Faith actually tried not to be openly hostile for the first time in forever, “I think I…” Willow could see the physical pain it was costing her to say what was on her mind. “I need your help,” she said through gritted teeth.

“You wanna do this here?” Willow raised her eyebrows and glanced out at the workroom staring back at them. 

Faith rushed up at her, and Willow clenched her body so hard that she actually jumped back into the doorframe. “No,” she held up a hand, wishing her movement hadn’t been so forceful, that things between them weren’t what they were in that moment. “Can’t you just…” Faith glanced backwards at the others, then let her eyes rest on Andromeda. “I need to know that she’s okay.” She looked desperately at Willow. 

Drama stared at them in fascination. She wasn’t sure if they would fight or hug or laugh or tear each other’s faces off next. But the tension between them was terrifying and thrilling. 

“She can hear you,” Willow replied with wide eyes. “She’s not deaf.”

Faith pressed her lips together so hard they started to turn white from the pressure of holding back the raging beast of anger that flared up inside of her. Restraint wasn’t a strong point for her. But she let her eyes wander back to the girl she loved, and she breathed some of the frustration back out again. “I know that. But I can’t hear her.” The calm in her voice was something Willow hadn’t expected, and her mouth hung open for a moment in shock. “I love her, and I’m not leaving her to deal with all of this on her own. It’s way too big. She shouldn’t have to write out everything or send me a text when I’m sitting next to her, and I have no idea how we’re going to deal with lawyers and funerals, and I’m trying to tell you that I need you, and you’re just staring back at me like… like I’m the crazy one here.” She threw her hands up in exasperation. She flipped to Drama, “Am I the crazy one?”

Drama’s eyes were wide, but she knew well enough to shake her head, no. 

“And I sell this to Tara, how exactly?” Willow crossed her arms over her chest, trying her best to look cocky. 

Drama faced her and signed to Willow, ‘We talked. She’s good.’ She glanced at Faith. No one had ever stood up for her like that. Never. 

“Good with you, not with Faith,” Willow warned her. “After what you both did -”

Faith wanted to laugh, “Before or after you exploited her full client list for half a million?” Willow visibly gulped. “Nobody here is a good guy, Will. We’ve all done terrible things. Get the yardstick out later. I said I needed help, not that I can’t communicate with her. Please don’t try to play me like the fool right now. Not when I’m willing to humble myself and ask you, of all people, for help.”

Andromeda was listening, she was hanging on every word, but the way Faith was handling this had taken Drama by such surprise that she couldn’t pay attention to anything but her. She reached out and took Faith’s hand in her own. And Faith gripped her firmly. She was solid. 

“I’m willing to put aside everything for this,” her eyes drifted back to Willow, reluctant to leave the look of utter love on Drama’s face. “If Tara can see past all of your extremely obvious and annoying faults, then she can see reason in this. And please don’t overlook how much this costs me… to need you.”

Willow could see it. And a thousand smartass things crossed her mind to say, but she bit them all back. She looked between the two standing in front of her and saw what was there, how they leaned into each other, and it made sense. Somehow, they made sense. She couldn’t admit it there, but a part of her was happy that Faith had found Drama, that she had someone to love her. “Okay. I’ll come.”

____________________

“In what world, exactly, is this a reasonable thing to tell your girlfriend on a Thursday night?” Tara’s face could have been chiseled out of granite for how incredibly angry she was at Willow. “You want to leave at what time tomorrow morning?”

“Early, which I think is maybe like seven or something by Drama’s standards, so not, like, farming early at least,” Willow tried to explain. She knew she was in horrific trouble.

“It’ll be fine,” Petra reasoned behind them. Her comment was met by a tremendous scowl from Tara. “Faith doesn’t hate her that much. Or maybe not _as_ much.”

“And what happens if she decides to start throwing punches?” Tara spat, pacing around the kitchen again. “I won’t have her getting physically violent with Willow.”

“Drama can take care of that,” Petra snorted. “She’s like a girl version of a terminator.”

“Listen,” Willow tried for the umpteenth time that evening, “it’ll be fine. I’m only going to support Drama. She could use a friend right now.”

“It sounds like a whole parade of friends will be going,” Tara shot back.

“And I’m the only one fluent in ASL,” Willow stood up. “Look. I get it. I’d be mad if I were you, too. But sometimes you have to do the hard things at the least convenient times.” She took a deep breath and tried to look at Tara lovingly. “I’ll be back for Christmas next week.”

Tara kept her scowl, but Willow could see her letting it go. “Neither of us celebrates Christmas,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Why don’t you just come along?” Petra said absently from her spot at the kitchen table. “Pan’s car is huge. There’s loads of room.”

Willow glared at her in utter shock, but Tara finally smiled. “Maybe a road trip would be good for us, honey.”

____________________

Drama sat at the counter with her head in her hands. This was turning into a complete disaster. Her phone was blowing up with text messages from the girls, Willow had tried to actually call her and ended up doing all the talking, because obviously Drama couldn’t, and now Tara was coming along and was fuming about having Willow and Faith in the same vehicle. Things would have been so much simpler if she had just kept her mouth shut and left on her own. But then she thought about Faith’s reaction to all of it, and she regretted thinking about leaving her behind. The problem was, she had no idea what she was going to be walking into, and none of them could help her prepare. Thankfully it would be a long drive, so she might have some time to figure things out in her head.

The door to her apartment opened, and Faith walked in, picked up the two sleeping bags on the floor and turned to walk out again. She stopped to look at the girl sitting by herself in the kitchen. “Well that’s settled,” she dropped the bags and closed the door, moving over to the counter to sit. “Anyone but you is taking the first driving shift.”

Drama pulled the laptop over and showed her the weather report for the passes. Heavy snow was already falling. ‘This is a bad idea,’ she typed. ‘Maybe it would just be better to cancel.’

“Pan has chains, and I don’t mind driving over the pass. I’ll take that part. Tell me again why the kid who weighs eighty-five pounds soaking wet with quarters in her pockets drives a big-ass black suburban with tinted windows like she’s a drug dealer?” Drama laughed and pulled at her hair from the frustration of the whole moment. “I know, I know,” Faith held up her hands in defense, “she’s your friend and she’s a good kid. You should come downstairs,” Faith got up again. “Turns out you have more friends than you thought. They’re all ready to go.”

Moose perked up and padded through the kitchen to Drama’s side. He looked up at her with big, auburn eyes. She patted the top of his head and went to grab his leash, shouldered her bag, and closed the apartment door behind her. Out on the sidewalk was a collection of noisy, wildly animated conversations. 

“I didn’t pack long underwear,” Petra cursed. “Is it really gonna be that cold?”

“Drew said he would keep an eye on the house,” Tara checked how the bags in the back end of the car were stacked on each other. She turned to Willow. “Crap, did you think to pack snacks for the ride?”

Scotty walked up to Drama and held out his hand. “I’ll call if anything goes wrong,” he reassured her.

She handed over Moose’s leash with a very worried look. ‘No treats, they upset his stomach,’ she signed. She started to look for Pan or Willow to have them tell Scotty what she was saying when he stopped her. He grabbed a large, flat board from the top of a duffel bag in the back of the car and handed it to her with a smile. There was a dry erase marker attached to it. She took it and immediately wrote, ‘Thank you.’

He smiled back, pleased with himself. “I figured it might help along the way there and back.” Drama scribbled a few notes for him about the dog to which he nodded. He held up his fist and she tapped it.

Pan took the wheel first. “Which way are we going?” she looked into the rearview mirror. 

“Take I-90,” Willow answered from the passenger seat. 

Tara and Petra sat in the middle row. They chatted nonstop like sisters who hadn’t seen each other in weeks. The thought struck Drama like a sucker punch to the stomach. All this time her sister had been there, dealing with god only knows what, and Drama hadn’t gone back for her. That same thought had been circling her brain all night and into the morning as she packed everything up for the trip. She felt physically ill from dwelling on it for so many hours. She didn’t know how to explain to Faith or anyone else how that felt. It was devastating. She’d had so many dreams about Julie over the years, so many moments when she thought about her, but she had chalked it up to loneliness, especially the loneliness of a childhood that still haunted her. 

A firm hand pressed down on her shoulder. She turned to see Faith looking at her with concern. “What, no backhand for being too forward?”

Her face relaxed when she realized Faith was right. She hadn’t felt her body tense up at all. It had even been a calm night for the part where she had tried to sleep. She thought back to the feeling of Faith’s warm back pressed up against her chest as they curled around one another in the bed. She had felt bad getting up at 3 AM, but sleep just wouldn’t come. So she went for a run to shake off the nerves and settle herself. It hadn’t worked that well.

They both suddenly felt eyes on them. Faith’s hand had found Drama’s at some point, and their fingers were laced together in Drama’s lap. They looked forward and saw Petra staring back. “I swear to god, if you start making out back there, I will actually puke.” She sighed with her whole body. “Aw hell, who am I kidding? You two are adorable.” She waved her hand at them. “Go on, just keep the moaning down.” She frowned at Drama. “I specifically mean you, strong and silent type.” Drama gave her a completely shocked expression. “Oh please, Faith told me everything, and I cannot believe you make sounds like that! You’re an animal!”

Faith reached out and smacked the back of Petra’s head with a laugh. “Fuck you, you little punk.” But when she glanced sideways at Andromeda she got an eyeful of wild glaring. “Oh please, you know she’s just messing with you. I’d never give her any details about the sexy little things you say to me when we’re alone.” 

Drama couldn’t decide whether to laugh or die from embarrassment, but Tara leaned over the back of her seat and said, “I have no problem making her sit with Petra if these two can’t behave themselves for the next ten hours. They can punish each other.” And the way she looked at Faith after that made Drama laugh out loud with enough sound that Petra turned around slowly to stare at her.

“Ooh,” Faith gave Tara a huge smile, “Mom’s gonna send me off to get a switch. Bout to be a whoopin’.”

Tara rolled her eyes at the brunette, but Drama saw how much she was smiling. And she knew that no matter what people initially thought about Faith, one way or another she would surprise you. And it was almost impossible to resist liking her.

“I cannot handle any more Taylor Swift,” Willow ejected Pan’s disk from the car stereo after two hours. “I had no idea this would be six-hundred miles of hell.”

“For once we agree on something,” Faith mumbled to her as she hopped into the driver’s seat. They had driven to the first rest stop beyond Snoqualmie Pass, stopped for the restrooms and to deploy snacks, and Faith had gladly pulled Pan from her driving duties. The snow was falling steadily, but the road didn’t have much snow accumulating. Grey slush was everywhere. The two women at the front of the car looked at each other, realizing they would be stuck together for at least a couple of hours until someone needed another stop. “What do you want to listen to?” Faith shuffled through the binder of CDs Petra had packed for the trip. Most of them made her roll her eyes. 

“Anything shunned by tweens,” Willow smirked. “Did she pack Black Sabbath?”

“No luck,” Faith moaned. “I have no idea what half this shit is.” She picked one out of its plastic sleeve and held it up for Pan, who was in the middle with Tara. “Am I going to hate you forever when I hear this one?”

“Nope,” she answered with a bounce. “Jungle are the coolest. They scowl a lot. Just like you.”

Faith inserted the disc and slipped into silence as she pulled the massive SUV out onto the highway again. They drove down the long descent without saying anything, listening to the others chatting in the back of the car.

“How’s Drama handling this?” Willow finally asked.

“How would you?”

“Yeah, well,” Willow shrugged, “I don’t have the greatest relationship with my dad.”

“You picked the right car,” Faith sat back in her seat, forcing herself to relax with one hand on the wheel. “We’re all dysfunctional.” Willow glanced at her and opened her mouth, but Faith cut her off. “I don’t want to hear it.” Willow closed her mouth and nodded. “Wait,” Faith smiled, though she was clearly angry, “you’re not gonna try to push that button?”

“It’s not really my business.”

“Always was before.”

“Is it any wonder,” Tara interrupted from behind them, “that you two are always fighting when you act like this?”

“I’m pretty sure you don’t know our history,” Faith shot her a warning look over her shoulder.

Tara sat up stiffly. “Actually, I know a lot of it, because Willow and I talk and get things out in the open. Everybody in this car has history they have to deal with, Faith. Not just you. So right now we put that shit aside, because we’re here to support Drama. That’s what friends do.” Drama felt her whole face burning at the back of the car. She barely knew Tara. It seemed, lately, like everyone was suddenly competing to be friends with her. 

The car stayed quiet for a long time. “Sorry,” Faith finally mumbled to no one in particular. “How was he?” she finally asked.

Willow looked at her for a moment and then put her eyes back on the road. “He hasn’t changed much. The house is in good shape. I don’t think he leaves very often anymore.”

“I hate that place.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“It’s full of you,” Faith frowned at her. Willow didn’t know how to answer. “You should have been his daughter. He would have been happier.”

“He ended up being a father to all of us,” she replied quietly. “You can’t not love Giles once you get to know him. But you,” she choked up a little, “you leaving really broke his heart, and he never got over it.”

“He didn’t care enough to visit me in prison.” She looked sideways at Willow. “I know,” she held up a hand defensively again. “I know all of you had to go into hiding after that, and it was my fault. I’m clear on that part.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” Willow leaned back into the headrest. “We just didn’t think it through well enough.” She turned to face Faith. “I’ve had to live with it, too. All of it. Leaving you there…” Her voice broke a little. She took a breath to steady herself. “I’m sorry.”

Faith stared out the windshield. Everything they passed was snow and ice, dull and grey, and she felt cold all the way through to her bones. She waited a long time, until she thought maybe there wasn’t even anyone else in the car with them. It was quiet except for the music playing, and it wasn’t loud on the stereo. She looked in the rearview and saw Drama’s head rolled over onto the side of the window, clearly passed out from lack of sleep. Petra looked the same, slouched low in her seat. Tara was knitting, Pan was reading, her eyes drifting closed every minute or two. She looked back at Willow, just staring at the road. “Just for the record,” she said quietly, Willow turning to look at her, “I never gave you up. A promise is a promise.”

Willow raised her eyebrows. “I always knew that.” She saw Faith look at her as though she didn’t believe her. “It’s not in you.”

Faith laughed. “I came pretty close.” Willow’s face went a bit pale. “Blame Murdock. She pitted you against Andromeda.”

“Clearly not a fair fight.”

“It was not a hard choice for me at all,” Faith brushed her hair back. “Thankfully it didn’t go that way. You can blame it all on yourself for getting caught.” She glanced back at Tara again. “You must have it bad for that girl to get so stupid and sloppy. That’s not your usual style.”

Willow blushed a heavy shade of pink. “Better caught by Murdock than the feds, I guess.”

Faith stared at her for a moment. “Are you sure about that?” Willow met her gaze. “I thought I gave you enough time to do your homework.”

She looked back out the windshield and tried to pay attention to the road, to the other cars and trucks on the highway. She had done her homework, and she did know more about Ophelia Murdock than she probably should after such a short period of time. Giles had warned her, and she had still accepted the position, agreed to work with someone with a history that should be enough to scare her away permanently. “Giles mentioned a few things,” she mumbled.

Faith frowned at his name again. “He knows better than anyone. Just watch your step. She’s got plans for you.”

____________________

Drama woke up when the car slowed for a turn. Her neck was sore and stiff from the awkward angle she had dozed off in, and she suddenly worried that her hair was a complete mess. She looked over at Petra and asked her to make sure she didn’t look like an idiot. Petra smiled sweetly and took advantage of the moment, playing with her blonde hair, combing and parting it and asking about braiding it. Drama shook her off with a playful sneer. She caught the sound of laughter from the front seat and sat up. 

“I swear, it was the funniest thing,” Faith slapped the steering wheel. 

Willow was laughing. “The look on her face was priceless!” 

“The way she ate that entire bag of Oreo’s in, like… ten minutes?” Faith could hardly catch her breath as she remembered the moment. “She was puking black chocolate gross shit for an hour!” They dissolved into a fit of laughter.

Drama shook her head in fascination. She sat back and looked at Petra and shrugged her shoulders. Petra giggled. “Your girlfriend isn’t so tough,” she joked. “But I’ve always known that.” Petra pulled on her braids and stuck the end of one in her mouth to chew on it.

Drama felt a wave of panic talking to anyone about Faith, but she knew there was no point trying to hide anything now. ‘You two are pretty close,’ she wrote on the whiteboard.

“She’s just always been there,” Petra hugged herself and leaned against the side of the car. It was snowing heavily outside, and the daylight was starting to fade. “I always knew if Faith was around that I’d be okay. She’s really just this big teddy bear.” She looked right into Drama’s eyes. “I’ll kick your ass if you break her heart.” Something in her was momentarily ferocious, and Drama knew she meant what she said.

‘I love her,’ she wrote with the marker. She stared at her own words in terror, but they were there.

“Duh,” Petra smiled back.

They stopped in Baker City to find dinner. It was already dark, and they still had a long way to go before they would be done driving. Drama could feel her nerves jumping as she tried to eat, but she mostly just picked at her burger. “I know you’re a health food nut,” Faith said beside her. “But you should eat something, even if greasy burgers don’t appeal that much.”

She shook her head and pointed her thumb out the door. ‘I need to walk for a minute,’ she signed. The freezing night air woke her up and surged like ice through her lungs. She zipped her down coat around herself and walked through the parking lot to clear her head. It had been fifteen years since she had been in Idaho, and crossing the border felt like something she couldn’t do. She was suddenly glad for the company of her friends.

She turned at the sound of boots crunching through snow behind her. “Hey,” Faith walked closer. “Doing okay?”

Drama looked away, unable to answer. She had left the white board at the table inside the restaurant, and her hands were too cold to take out of her pockets. Her only smart move was remembering to put on the warm hat that Tara had given her in the car. Apparently she liked to knit, and she was busy making one for each of them on the ride. 

Faith edged a bit nearer. “You look kinda cold.”

Drama looked at her with a wrinkled eyebrow, but she nodded. Faith walked up to her and extended her arms around the girl. The warmth of her body felt amazing. Drama melted into her embrace and pulled her hands out of her pockets so that she could gather her in. She buried her face in Faith’s long hair, letting it wash over her eyes and cheeks. “I’ve got you,” Faith whispered to her, the warmth of her breath steaming up Drama’s exposed neck. Drama pulled her head up and looked into Faith’s eyes, unbelievably grateful that she hadn’t successfully left on her own. She nudged her forehead and let their lips come together delicately. They kissed long and slow, savoring the cold air and the snow falling on their shoulders. “I am such a sucker for you,” Faith smiled. She kissed her again, harder this time, and her hand played with the loose bits of hair that Drama’s hat couldn’t contain. 

The sound of laughter emerged from the restaurant, and Drama jerked in their embrace, feeling like she should step away. Faith kept her arms wrapped around her. “Girl,” came Faith’s soothing voice, “it’s a carful of lesbians who all know about us anyway.”

Drama took a deep breath and tightened her grip on Faith’s waist. It felt so good just to hold her and be held by her that she was willing to ignore the cooing sounds coming from Petra and Pan as they all headed for the car. 

“How much further is it?” Tara asked as they organized blankets and more snacks for the remaining journey. 

“Probably another three hours,” Willow looked at the map on her phone. “And we might lose cell reception along the way.”

Drama let go of Faith with a small kiss to the side of her mouth and stepped over to look at the phone. She signed to Willow, ‘Things get pretty ugly just past Emmett. The road is twisty and steep. We need four wheel drive and chains. Sometimes there are rock slides.’

‘Everybody else is getting tired,’ Willow signed back with concern on her face. 

‘I can drive from here.’

“No way,” Willow spoke and signed at the same time. “I can handle this. I’m the best driver in the group anyway. Take shotgun and help?”

Drama nodded. She shot a worried glance at Faith, who simply smiled back. “It’s cool. I’ll snuggle Tara so Willow doesn’t fall asleep.” She leered at the other blonde, and Drama felt a sudden pang of jealousy. She glanced at Tara who had a similar look on her face, but hers might have been laced with a bit of fear. Faith had a tendency to elicit that in people.

Faith smiled even more and sauntered to the door closer to Tara. Drama caught her elbow and pulled her back sharply, kissing her suddenly and deeply. She poured all of her passion into those soft lips, her tongue diving into Faith’s mouth to show her just how badly she wanted her all to herself. When she pulled herself away, Faith had to catch her breath. “Relax, Andromeda,” she ran her thumb over Drama’s lower lip. “I was only joking anyway.”

Tara pointed a finger into Willow’s chest with a serious look on her face. “You need to work on your game. That was hot.” She opened the door and hopped in, leaving Willow’s mouth hanging open.

The road was, indeed, icy, steep, and nothing but twists and bends once they cleared the last town with a real grocery store. Snow fell harder the further they drove, but Willow still looked relaxed in the driver’s seat. She drummed her fingers to the music playing. She had switched it over to Deep Sea Diver as soon as they were moving again. The girls were sound asleep in the back row under warm blankets. Drama could hear Tara and Faith chatting quietly behind them. 

“You don’t even own a car?” Faith was asking.

“I don’t see the point,” Tara answered. “They’re so expensive. I just use the bus or walk where I need to go.”

“Don’t you get hassled riding the bus?” Faith wrinkled her nose. “You’re pretty. I see what happens to pretty ladies out in public. It’s not cool.”

“I work around it,” Tara shrugged it off. “You’re pretty,” she nudged Faith. “Don’t you get hassled?”

“I have a very clear ‘don’t fuck with me’ vibe that I wear. You might have seen it once or twice,” she joked.

Drama looked back at Willow and signed to her while she drove, hoping it wasn’t going to distract her too much. ‘Tara’s really sweet. You’re lucky.’

“Right?” Willow gave her an incredulous look. “Thanks for letting her come along. You might have saved my relationship.”

‘It’s nice to have the company,’ Drama signed with hesitation. ‘This… all of this makes me nervous. I don’t know what I’m about to walk into.’

“Faith said you have a sister you haven’t seen in a long time.”

‘Yeah,’ she brushed the hair out of her face. ‘Fifteen years. She won’t be the kid I remember.’

“Why did you leave?” Willow asked.

Drama sighed heavily. ‘I got sent to juvenile detention for setting the house on fire. And for assault. When I got out, my mom picked me up and drove me to Spokane, told me I was better off finding my own way. So I did.’

“Wait, how old were you?” Willow looked horrified. What parent would do that to a child of any age?

‘Ten. I was in for four years.’

“And your mother kicked you to the curb at fourteen?” Willow twisted the steering wheel in her hands. She slowed down as they rounded their way through a steep canyon. The snow was piling up, and the wiper blades struggled to keep from freezing. “Your father didn’t stop her?”

‘He’s the reason I lit the house on fire.’ Willow’s eyes went wide again as she tried to figure out what Drama was telling her. 

They drove in silence over the backroad mountain pass, and Drama could feel Willow’s anxiety level increase as the weather got worse. Behind them the other four had fallen into soft snores, oblivious to the hazardous road conditions. ‘Pull over. I’ll drive,’ Drama tapped Willow’s arm. They paused at a pullout on the side of the road just long enough to switch seats. Willow’s face was grey and drawn from the effort of seeing through the snowstorm. Drama took off without hesitation, but she didn’t truly know where she was going once they got into the small town of Stanley. They passed by a dark gas station, an IGA, and a run-down lodge and restaurant. Things looked familiar, but not enough to feel confident about where to head next, so Willow helped her find the following series of turns. The snow settled into flurries as they made their way down the straight stretch of road. Drama knew the mountains were flanking them on both sides. She had vague memories of watching this route from the backseat of her father’s pickup truck. They used to drive out to the cabin in the summer and stay for weeks at a time while her father drank and fished on the lake. Her mother would stay with friends in a town nearby and gamble. Drama and Julie would be left to their own devices most days and even many nights in the rustic cabin. She felt the sharp pang of memory when the car headlights reflected off of it at the end of the long dirt road that was obscured in heavy drifts of snow.

“You said this place was a cabin,” Willow whispered, glancing back at her sleeping girlfriend. “That looks like a two story house.”

‘It doesn’t have electricity,’ Drama shrugged. ‘It’s not glamorous.’

“It has a wrap-around deck.”

‘It’s being absorbed in probate to cover the cost of my father’s debt.’ She ran her hands through her hair nervously. ‘And I’d rather sleep here than in the house.’ She unbuckled her seatbelt. ‘Give me a minute to find the key?’ Willow nodded as Drama slipped quietly out of the car and closed the door behind her. Her legs plunged through snow up to her knees. She plowed a path to the edge of the deck around the back of the house and pulled a small flashlight from her pocket. The light shined out over the crisp snow and caught in the eyes of two elk standing in the meadow. Drama sniffed quietly and watched them until they walked off. She swung the light around under the supports of the deck to look for the hook where the key usually hung. Well, at least that much hadn’t changed. She swiped the key into her frozen hand and trudged toward the front door, shoving it open with the help of a firm shoulder. The inside of the house was cold and dark. She could hear the faucet in the kitchen running. Someone had been taking care of the place, making sure the pipes wouldn’t freeze. She opened the closet door in the kitchen and found the old coleman lanterns. They were already full of fuel, just waiting to be lit. Matches were in their usual place in the kitchen drawer. It was as though time had frozen in this place, and she was eight years old again, rushing around to light the cabin so that Julie wouldn’t be afraid of the dark. She pumped up the fuel pressure on the lamps and lit them, then hung each of them on their ceiling hooks in the living room. She carried two upstairs for the bedrooms. 

When she came back down the narrow stairs, Willow and Tara were taking off their boots in the entry. She slipped past them and out the door to the woodpile, picked up an armful of split logs and kindling and went back inside to start a fire in the woodstove. It was already clean and ready to be filled with wood. “This place is beautiful,” Tara muttered as she made her way into the small living room. Her hands trailed over the built-in bookshelves on the wall. 

Drama signed and looked at Willow with a bit of frustration. “She says her uncle built it in the seventies, but he died and left it to her father.” Willow looked out the sliding glass door to the dark meadow beyond. “Tara’s right. This is neat-o.”

Drama lit the fire and pulled the stove door nearly shut to encourage enough air to fan the flames. The warm light spilled out along the floor highlighting the worn rugs that overlapped. Their edges were tattered from so many years of abuse. ‘I’ll find the blankets.’ She pointed to the upstairs. ‘There are three beds.’

“I’ll go get the sleepyheads from the car,” Willow pulled her coat closer over her small frame.

The cabin was a bit warmer by the time Faith’s head poked into the small bedroom. “Does this mean we get the private room?” she asked. The other two beds were just outside that door in the upstairs loft. They didn’t have the same privacy, but at least no one had to sleep on the floor. Drama smiled and tossed her a blanket to throw on one of the other beds. She threw it out at Petra, who was arguing with Pan about which side of the bed she wanted, and then Faith closed the door. She sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off her coat. Things were warming up now that the cabin was inhabited. “You look tired from the drive.”

‘I can’t believe I let you sleep with Tara,’ Drama wrote on her board. It was coming in very handy. She snickered when Faith threw a pillow at her.

“I can’t believe that kiss you gave me,” Faith jumped up and crawled across the bed, kneeling to face the blonde. She reached out and grabbed the front of her sweatshirt in her fist and pulled her close. Her lips brushed up against Drama’s temptingly. “Are the walls in this place really thin so they can hear us making out in here?”

Drama nodded and smiled as she leaned in to kiss Faith. She wanted to tell Faith that _she_ was the noisy one, or explain that she wanted to make Faith call her name out over and over, or maybe even that Drama wanted to say her name out loud herself, but she was so caught up in kissing her that she couldn’t break free to write or sign. She poured all of that feeling into her hands and her lips and pulled Faith’s body closer. 

“Easy there, tiger,” Faith pushed back gently. “It’s been a long drive, you’re beat, and I’d like not to have a black eye in the morning.”

Drama grabbed the white board in frustration and quickly wrote, ‘Please just trust me.’

Faith’s lips quirked into a smile and she tilted her head to the side. Drama leapt at the chance and dove in to kiss her neck. “Hey, wow,” Faith jumped slightly. “I could get used to this…” 

Drama could feel her smiling, her body moving against her own, wanting her. She pressed her lips against Faith’s ear and forced the air from her lungs through her mouth around the letter f. She fought and struggled to get her name to come out, but it didn’t work. She pulled the edge of Faith’s shirt up and over her arms and head and ran her palms up and down her exposed back, trailing kisses along her shoulder. She tried to say her name again, still stuck on getting the letter f to escape her lips. She paused and pressed her forehead into Faith’s, scowling at how much effort it was taking to get her voice to work.

Faith wrapped her arm around Andromeda’s neck and placed a finger across her lips to shush her. “Stop trying so hard and just let your body do the talking,” she offered. She pulled her girlfriend into the bed.


	18. Chapter 18

Drama crept out of the bed, past her sleeping friends, and down into the living room before the sun was up. There were still some coals burning in the woodstove. She rebuilt the fire and opened the vent to get things warming up again, but that had run her nearly out of split wood. She pulled on her coat and hat by the door, picked up the axe in one hand, and swung the door open to a new drift of snow on the porch. She gripped the axe tighter and thought about how light it felt now that she was an adult. The last time she had used it she was only eight or nine years old. The woodpile was close by the door. She walked over through the deep snow and brushed off the old stump she had always used to split wood, lining up the first piece. She squared her shoulders and hefted the axe up, and suddenly a sound behind her distracted her. She relaxed the tool in her hand and turned to look beyond the house in the darkness of early morning. She checked her watch. It was still before 6 AM, so it was probably just more elk or possibly deer. The sound was coming from near where the suburban was parked. It was coated in a fresh layer of snow. She kept the axe in her hand and walked closer to take a look. Now wasn’t the time for raccoons to get curious, especially if Petra or Pan had been careless about all the peanut butter pretzels they had snacked on in the car. She noticed the dome light of the car was on. That was bad news. They’d have a dead battery for sure if a door had been left ajar all night long. She walked over briskly and checked the doors on the passenger side. They were secure, but she could see that the back door on the other side was wide open. Shit. 

Drama walked behind the car and around the other side and nearly fell down when the woman standing there lunged at her. “You tell me what you’re doing here!” she yelled with the index finger of her right hand outstretched. Drama recovered quickly and held up the axe with a furious look on her face. “I wouldn’t take my chances if I were you,” the girl threatened. 

Drama frowned at her but didn’t put the axe down. She swung it casually in her hand, trying to be clear that she knew how to handle it. She pointed at the car, clearly accusing the girl of breaking into it. She swung her hand, telling her to get lost. 

“No way, mister,” she fired back unafraid. Drama squinted at her in the dim light from the lanterns in the kitchen. Fierce green eyes flared at her and the end of a blonde ponytail swung over her shoulder. She was dressed for the weather, but she still looked cold. Something about her was scrappy and endearing in a car-stealing sort of way. “This is my cabin,” she pointed at the building beside them. “You clearly broke in,” she pointed angrily at Drama, fierce and unrelenting.

Drama stepped forward and shut the car door with force. She barreled down on the girl and picked her up by the front of her coat, shoving her backwards up the steps, onto the porch, through the door, and into the entry. The girl thrashed at her and screamed and fought, but Drama didn’t let go and didn’t stop walking until she deposited the girl roughly onto the couch in the living room. “I will kill you, you motherfucker,” she shouted over and over. When Drama let go of her and stepped back, she launched out of the couch to attack. Drama simply pushed her back down again. She got up two more times, and each push back from Drama was harder until it became clear that she wasn’t getting up. “What the hell do you want from me?”

“What’s going on down here?” Willow called out as she ran down the stairs. She looked at the two in the living room and rushed over, her head looking back and forth between them until she was dizzy. “Who the hell are you?” she yelled at the girl.

“Fuck you,” the girl flipped her off, “and get out of my house!”

Willow looked at Drama with raised eyebrows. “Drama, is this-” she stopped, but there was such an odd look on Willow’s face that Drama motioned at her to finish her damn question. “Are you Julie?” she asked the girl.

“How the hell do you know my name?” the girl spat, launching herself at Willow. 

Drama picked her up with both hands and tossed her back onto the couch, but the girl cried out this time and arched her back. Drama and Willow stared in complete shock as the girl wrapped protective hands around her belly. They could clearly see now that she was pregnant. 

“This is gonna be a fun day,” Willow whispered. 

Faith stormed down the stairs with Tara at her heels. “What in the name of-” she looked between Drama and the girl on the couch. Her head twisted back to Drama with shock in her eyes. “Damn, she looks just like you.”

Drama shook her head in disbelief. She looked back at the girl and signed her name, but the girl just scrunched her face up at her in fury. Pan and Petra slid down the stairs rubbing their eyes, and everyone started talking and yelling at once. Tara was the only reasonable one in the group, and she set about refueling the lanterns and relighting them, hanging each one as she worked her way around the room. Once they had better light, she filled the tea kettle, placing it on the gas range. She lit the range and started looking for mugs and tea in the cupboards. Julie watched her from where she sat on the couch. Drama and Willow argued in sign in front of her, Faith swore loudly and kept looking at the girl’s face, and Pan and Petra were chattering crazily about what a great adventure they were having. 

“Try the one on the right,” Julie called out to Tara over the clatter. Everyone quieted down as Tara smiled a thank you and pulled out a box of tea and several mugs. She put a tea bag into each mug and poured hot water over them, then started handing them out. Julie was the last one she handed a mug to. “Thanks,” the girl looked up at her.

Tara sat next to her on the couch and held her own mug, trying to warm up in the cold cabin while the fire blazed in the woodstove. “Can we all talk now?” she looked around the room at each of the friends. Drama took off her coat and hat. She put her mug of tea down on a side table without looking at it. The furniture hadn’t been moved in decades. “Julie?” Tara looked at the girl.

“Yeah,” she answered. 

“My name is Tara,” she smiled. “This is Willow, Faith,” she pointed at the other side of the room, “Pan and Petra,” then looked back at the chair beside them, “and I think this is the sister you haven’t seen in a few years, Drama.”

Julie locked eyes onto Drama, and everything started to come into focus for both of them. She set the tea mug down on a table and scooted closer, letting her hands reach out to touch Drama’s face. “I didn’t think you’d come back,” she whispered.

‘I couldn’t leave you once I knew you were here,’ Drama signed. 

Julie followed her hands and furrowed her eyebrows. “What the hell is that about?” She looked up at her sister’s face. “Why won’t you just talk to me?”

“She just doesn’t,” Pan said softly from the other side of the room. 

Drama looked away and moved uncomfortably in her chair. Julie backed away and looked at the other women around the room. “You’re telling me I get my sister back after all this time and she’s turned into Ariel the fucking mermaid?”

Faith snorted, and everyone in the room scowled at her. “What?” she said defensively. “It was kinda funny,” she muttered.

Drama crossed her arms over her chest and tried to look angry with her girlfriend, but she had to admit it was the sort of thing she would have said if the roles were reversed. She put a hand on Julie’s shoulder and took a long look at her, taking in all of the features of her face. It really was her. She had grown up, but some parts of her hadn’t changed. Her long blonde hair was tied back in a low, messy ponytail, her green eyes stared back with intensity, clearly starting to see the same things in her big sister. Drama raised her eyebrows and lowered her head a notch. Julie nodded and dove in to hug her. They held onto each other for long enough that everyone around them started to shuffle away and figure out what the kitchen had in store for them. Drama let her go and started signing to her, glancing at Willow for help. 

“She says,” Willow sat down next to the two sisters, “that she didn’t mean to scare the crap out of you outside, but she thinks you could work on your car theft skills.”

Julie laughed and stared happily at her sister. “Yeah, well I had an axe in my face, jerk.”

Drama pointed at Julie’s belly with a concerned look. ‘Are we going to talk about this?’ she signed.

“I don’t,” she held up a hand to Willow, “need a translation for that. You’ve been gone a long time, Andy,” she shoved her sister’s shoulder playfully. “It might take you a minute to catch up.”

“How many nicknames does one person get?” Faith mumbled to Petra from the kitchen.

“Let them sister bond,” Petra snapped at her. “Let’s find something to make for breakfast. I’m starved.”

____________________

Drama and Julie had put on their coats and wandered out to the deck while everyone else ate some breakfast. A small group of elk grazed at the saplings on the edge of the meadow in the full light now that the sun was up. “I didn’t think you’d be here,” Julie shrugged as she watched the animals move along slowly through the deep snow. “I know you hated him.”

‘He was a dick,’ Drama wrote on her whiteboard. 

They smiled at each other. “Yeah, you nailed that one,” Julie smirked. “You remember how he cut your bicycle in half with his Sawzall that Christmas you spit in his face?”

Drama laughed and nodded several times. ‘It was worth it. The bike was pink.’

“Yeah,” Julie looked at her sister. “You hated that girly shit. Still do, I can see.” She pulled the collar of her coat up higher. “You let them call you Drama?” She lifted her chin at the door behind them, at the collection of friends inside. 

‘Andy makes too many people think I’m a guy.’ And that really was part of the reason, but the rest was too hard to explain.

“Looks like that’s what you’re trying to be.”

‘Not really. It’s complicated.’

“Clearly,” Julie shook her head. “You know…” she played with the snow on the railing, pushing small bits of it off the edge until she had made a pattern in what remained, “mom said you’d changed, that you got worse in juvie.” She looked at her sister from the side. “She said you took off when she went to pick you up. That you didn’t want to see me again. And that it was better for me not to be around you.”

‘What?’ Drama wrote with as many question marks as she could fit on the board. She wiped it off furiously. ‘B.S. She dropped me on my ass.’ Julie read the message and kept the frown between her eyes.

“I figured it was her doing anyway, you not coming back,” Julie mumbled.

Drama leaned forward over the railing and let her hair fall into her eyes. She wished she’d put on the hat Tara had made for her. It felt like it might start snowing again. And all of that cold reminded her of exactly how horrible it had felt to be alone on the streets of a city she hated as a kid. Plumes of moisture gathered around her face as she breathed. ‘My head got a little messed up,’ she wrote without looking at Julie. She could feel all of the explanations building up inside of her, and she wished desperately for a way to explain what had happened, why she had turned out like this, but it didn’t work that way. Most of her thoughts about her younger years just made her angry or sad, and she did her best not to think about those moments, about the loneliness or the fear, about how many people had taken advantage of her silence. She hoped Julie couldn’t see it on her face, or maybe that she could just believe that being in jail as a kid was hard enough and explained it all away. There was so much more that nobody knew about, and no one ever would if she had her way.

The younger girl turned around and looked at the people in the cabin. “Your friends seem nice. I didn’t realize lesbians traveled in pods, or whatever. Like whales.” Julie pulled her hair back and out of the ponytail, gathered it, put it back into the band again. Drama watched her, saw that she was struggling with something unsaid, and she worried that it was about her. How she looked, how short her hair was, that she had a girlfriend now, or that all of her friends were exactly what Julie had pegged them as. She could feel the edge of that pressure building. It was in Julie’s eyes, even if she hadn’t said it yet. She could see the traces of makeup on her face, how she obviously worked hard to have nice hair and to dress in a way that was feminine and predictable. Her fingernails looked recently manicured, and all of it created a line between the sisters that was growing stronger as they each defined the side they sat on. They weren’t really alike anymore, and the thought of their differences reached deep down into Drama’s guts and twisted itself into a knot.

“I was the one who set the house on fire. I know Pop wouldn’t have believed me if I’d said it before they had you arrested, but you shouldn’t have been the one to go.”

Drama leaned back on the railing, realizing that she’d been so caught up in her own thoughts that she hadn’t seen her sister’s words coming before they hit her. And they hit hard. ‘No, it was me,’ she wrote.

“Your memory is fucked up,” Julie smiled at her. “It was me. No doubt about it. But Pop thought it was you since you had that mean streak when it came to him. It was that day you told him you wanted to be a boy, and you really fought back when he hit you. I watched all of it. You tried so hard, but he was so much bigger, and he really messed you up. He hit you until you couldn’t get back up.”

She listened to Julie’s words, but there was no real memory to go with it. She rubbed her forehead and wondered if her father had hit her hard enough that he really had done some sort of damage to her, if that was why some things were so hazy and incomplete. 

“He got worse after the fire,” Julie went on. “Do you remember that night before he sent you away?” She stared at her sister. She could see the confusion on her face. “How much do you actually remember?”

Drama twitched at the thought of dredging up the source of her nightmares. Even for her little sister, she wasn’t sure it was a good idea to go through that. ‘I lit the fire, he came home, he hit me.’

“Yeah,” Julie glared at her, “and then?”

‘He called the cops on me the next morning.’

“Right,” Julie smiled, but it wasn’t sincere. “You left out the part about the motorcycle.” Drama stared at her blankly. “That’s how I started the fire. I torched that bike he was trying to build.” She leaned back again and tilted her head up to look at the clouds. “The tank blew, and crap went everywhere. I hadn’t really meant to burn up the house. I was just trying to destroy the bike.”

‘You were like 6 or 7.’

“Yeah?” Julie smiled for real this time. “I was precocious. Kinda like my big sister,” she joked. “Anyway, the fire got really hot when all that gas lit up. He came home and managed to get it under control, but he was so pissed at you that he picked you up and threw you onto the wreckage of the bike engine. It was blazing hot.” 

Drama ran a hand slowly over the deep scars on her back. The pain of the fire crept into her skin as she remembered that night clearly for the first time in far too long. ‘I slept on the couch,’ she wrote.

“You slept on your stomach. The burns were so bad mom couldn’t get your shirt out of your skin. They should have taken you to the hospital, but Pop wanted you dead. I think he actually hoped you’d die in the night.” Julie shuddered when she took a deep breath. “You didn’t even cry. You never made a sound, even when he threw you on that thing. I think that made him furious. He always wanted you to react, to cry or scream at him. But it was like you suddenly refused.”

Drama looked away. Terror wound around her ribs and froze her to her spot on the deck. The memories flooded in. She was terribly angry, but she wasn’t just angry about her father throwing her into the fire. There was more to it than that. She looked at Julie with sudden hurt in her eyes. She picked up the marker and wiped the board clean. ‘He went into your room that night.’

“You used to sleep with me,” Julie smiled at her. “We were inseparable. You kept me safe every night. I remember him coming in for you, but he never touched me as long as you were there.” There were tears in her eyes. “Once you were gone there was nothing to stop him.” They looked at each other for a long moment, until the snow started falling again. “I won’t fight with you over which one of us gets to spit in his grave first.”

____________________

Julie hung onto Drama’s elbow with a tight grip through the entire burial. There was no memorial service, nothing fancy, and only a handful of other people even bothered to show up. Drama didn’t really recognize any of them, but she had the feeling her father likely owed them money when he died. That was his theme. Everybody had one, it just wasn’t easy to face that this was it for him. A part of her felt bad for him, that no one would miss him or really mourn him. This could have been painful for her, but a bigger part of her inside was glowing for the joy of having her sister standing next to her after all this time. 

“Mom left not long after you got released,” Julie had told her on the ride over. They had left everyone else at the cabin so that they could have some time to themselves. “You know how she was for gambling. She took off to Vegas and didn’t come back. I got the call, Pop was out drinking. I told him when he came home the next day, but he didn’t care. He wouldn’t bring her home, so they buried her somewhere there in Nevada. I don’t even know where her grave is.” 

Drama had driven, so she couldn’t write anything on her board. She mimed a question of whether Julie had cried or been sad. 

“I think you’re insinuating that I was a sad clown or something,” Julie laughed at her. “Mom didn’t care about me. She just liked me better because I would wear a dress. She really hated you. Almost as much as Pop.”

Drama looked out the windshield.

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

Drama waved her off.

“No, there’s no reason for me to be a bitch about it. It wasn’t your fault they were assholes.”

Drama put a hand on the girl’s shoulder and gave her a half smile. She glanced down at her enormous baby bump and frowned. She moved her hand tentatively, asking if it was okay to touch her belly. Julie grabbed her hand and laid it flat on the surface of her round body. She kept her fingers laced between Drama’s, enjoying having her close. Drama pulled her hand away for a moment to point at her watch.

“We have time,” Julie answered. “The service isn’t until eleven o’clock.”

Drama smiled and shook her head, no. She pointed at the baby bump again, then put her hand back onto Julie’s belly gently. Something about holding her like this felt warm and safe. 

“Oh,” Julie blushed. “We have a couple weeks.”

Drama slammed on the brakes and gripped the steering wheel like she was going to wreck the car. She pulled over between grey snowbanks and started frantically signing to her sister, knowing she couldn’t possibly understand what she was saying. They ended up laughing once she calmed down, but knowing that there would be a new baby in their tiny family so soon was such a shock to Drama that she was still reeling from it by the time they were watching the backhoe lower their father’s wooden casket into the frozen Idaho soil. She found herself looking at where the baby was curled up so often that Julie was ready to slap her. 

They watched the machine push dirt into the grave and decided they could walk away. Neither one of them really wanted to spit in it after all. “You feel any better?” Julie asked.

Drama shrugged. She was holding her sister’s hand and staring at her belly again as they walked toward the car. She let out a tremendous sigh. Everything was changing so fast that she was struggling to keep up. And where one chapter of her past was coming to an end, here was another one about to pick up and run at a pace that scared her. They stood outside the car for a moment, both knowing they had to go to the attorney’s office later that afternoon. They didn’t have much time because of all the driving involved. The estate was scheduled to be decided on Monday morning. Today was Saturday. 

“Are you sure you’re okay with all of this?” Julie leaned against her shoulder.

Drama nodded. She reached into the car and grabbed the whiteboard to write back, ‘I don’t want to come back. Not ever.’

“Well then we just sign it all away,” Julie had a far off look in her eyes. “And we leave and don’t look back.” She looked up at her big sister, and Drama could feel what was happening before the words were out of Julie’s mouth. “I know you have your own life and stuff,” she hesitated, shuffling her boots in the crusty snow. 

Drama grabbed her in both arms and pulled her so close that Julie had to struggle for air for a moment. She nodded vigorously into her little sisters hair. Yes. Absolutely. We stick together.

____________________

Petra gave Pan a skeptical look. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Pussy.”

“Not a pussy,” Petra growled back, “just not looking to break an arm. That’s fucking steep.” She looked sideways and squinted, pointing to the right. “It doesn’t look as bad over there.”

“I thought you were a thrill-seeker.” Pan yanked the sled out of her hand and dropped it onto the snow. She straddled it and sat down on the back end. “Come on. It’ll be fun.” She reached up to Petra, holding her gloved hand out.

Petra rolled her eyes. She hadn’t checked to see if there was a first aid kit in the cabin before they’d left. Pan had found the sled and the snow gear in the downstairs closet and had lost her mind for all the fun they would have outside in however many feet of snow was out there. They never got anything like this at home, and she didn’t want to miss the chance. And the way she lit up about snow angels and sledding and skiing and being a goofball had been so sweet and adorable that Petra had agreed before she put in a single thought about throwing herself down the side of a mountain with no brakes and no helmet. Thrills were cool. Dying wasn’t her picture of a good time. “What if there are rocks?”

“Oh my god, Pet!” Pan grabbed her head in frustration, yelling out over the snowy hillside. “If there are any rocks they are covered in like eight feet of snow!” She panted plumes of moisture into the cold air. “Tell you what. How about you stuff your head up your ass to keep it safer? I’ll steer.”

“You kiss your mom with that mouth?” Petra smiled at her. She wasn’t used to Pan being so animated, and she couldn’t deny that it was a nice thing to watch. “Fine,” she grumbled. She took hold of Pan’s hand and sat down at the front of the sled, immediately terrified. As promised, Pan wrapped herself around the other girl, ready to take the brunt of a crash. “How do we get it to move?” Petra tried to look back, but Pan shoved them off so fast that she barely had time to take a breath before she was screaming, “Shit!!!”

They rocketed down the side of the hill and turned just a little too far to the left, when the sled pitched hard and dropped them into a sideways roll for another twenty feet. They landed in a massive snow drift, still laughing from the feeling of flying and falling. “That was the best!” Pan shouted. “Let’s go again.”

“No, no, no!” Petra rolled onto her back and tried to brush the snow off her face. She yanked off her gloves and spluttered, shaking her head and arms free from the powder. 

“Yes,” Pan said, crawling forward on all fours. She tried to grab Petra’s arm to lift her up, but Petra was having none of it. “Hey!” was all she could manage before the other girl shoved her shoulders and knocked her down in the pile of snow so that they were lying next to each other. “Oh, very not fair.”

“As compared to jumping off a damn cliff?” Petra laughed back at her. “No, I’m good. I will just lay here in relative safety if you wanna go do that again.”

“Your face won’t be so pretty after I sled over it,” Pan turned her head to see her friend. Petra’s smile was infectious. She was so beautiful and so full of laughter that Pan didn’t bother to hold back anything. She rolled over and kissed Petra lightning fast, but Petra’s brown eyes went wide, and she put both hands on Pan’s chest, shoving her back into the snow. “What?” was all Pan could manage.

“Why’d you do that?” Petra almost punched her. They stared at each other in a mix of confusion and anger, and neither of them could figure out what to say. 

Pan finally sat up, brushing snow off herself slowly. “Sorry,” she whispered. Her voice wasn’t quite loud enough to make it over the snow drifts, but Petra saw her mouth move. She watched her perfect lips with something like fascination. She had felt them close so many times. They moved again now, and she had to squint to pay attention to her words. “Last night…” Pan tried to say.

“I told you, I couldn’t sleep,” Petra looked away. “I was cold.” She had gotten up and wandered down the stairs to use the only bathroom in the cabin. And it was cold enough that she had added more wood to the fire and sat on the couch while things warmed up a little more. Pan hadn’t been far behind her. She never was. It was as though she was connected to Petra, whether she wanted her to be or not. And they had kissed and crawled under the blankets together, fumbling with clothes and sighing quietly into each other in the flickering light of the woodfire. Again. Petra had lost count of how many times it had happened, how many times they had found themselves alone together, how many times they had slept together without ever talking about it the next day. She just couldn’t, and she knew Pan wouldn’t dare. There was too much fear in her eyes over the thought of there never being a next time. But as she watched Pan’s dark eyelashes with uncertainty, Petra knew that she was afraid of the same thing. 

“It’s cold out here now,” Pan mumbled to herself. She had never imagined that loving someone who didn’t love her back could be so excruciating, and she couldn’t understand what it was about herself that kept edging up against that pain over and over. She glanced at Petra, at the snow clinging to the ends of her braids, and saw that she was rubbing her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“No,” she snapped back immediately. It made them both start. 

“Well,” Pan’s eyebrows drew together, “what do you need?” She blinked a few times, trying hard to push away the too recent memory of Petra’s lips against her ear, telling her how badly she needed her while Pan held her and thrust into her over and over, exactly the way she knew Petra wanted. She fought back the urge to rub her own shoulder for the ache that was still there. She had never had the courage to ask Drama what she should do to get stronger arms out of the pure fear that her friend would figure out that it was all for Petra, all for the girl Pan would never get to keep for more than a night or a brief stolen moment.

“I need you to stop looking at me like that,” Petra scowled at her. “I’m not your girlfriend.”

“Well then, what are you?” Pan finally yelled back, not caring if anyone else in all of the Idaho wilderness could hear her. “You want me in the middle of the night, you need me to fuck you, but when you’re done then I’m just nothing to you?” Her voice broke, and she felt the heat of tears rising in her. She wanted to punch something, but everything around her was just soft snow.

Petra got up from the deep snow, struggling to get her feet to stay where she put them. She sighed and put both hands on her hips, frowning down at Pan, the girl who never yelled, never got mad, never pushed back. She had let Petra braid her hair that morning, too. It had been loose in the night, and Petra closed her eyes for just a second to remember how the soft waves of it over her face had felt. “Okay, we can go again.” She looked around in the deep snow to figure out where the sled had landed. It wasn’t anywhere nearby. She shook off the feeling of Pan and tried to pull her foot free to move.

“So now you’re just going to ignore me,” Pan let her head fall back into the snow.

Petra trudged off, moving upward along the hill they had just come down, until she was completely out of Pan’s eyesight. She kicked the snow with the boots that were two sizes too big for her, and she wondered if they’d been Drama’s from when she was a kid, which would confirm her theory that she was definitely a Hobbit compared to everyone else. She clutched her hands in her pockets, realizing that she’d dropped her gloves back where they’d crash landed. And there, just to the left, was the sled stuck in the snow. She picked it up and marched back to where Pan was still lying in the snow, not moving. She set the sled down and sat on it, flopping forward onto her knees. “You know you don’t mean nothing to me.”

Pan tilted her head back to see Petra staring at her. “Kinda don’t, actually.” She had gotten over her tears and was hanging onto being angry instead. It felt a lot nicer.

Petra ran her hands over her face. She hadn’t actually expected Pan to behave like this. But it was maybe a little stupid to think she’d never get upset about it. “Well,” she struggled, “we’re friends, right?” But she could tell by the look on Pan’s face that that wasn’t what she meant, that it wasn’t even close. 

“You’re friends with Faith, right?”

“Of course,” Petra shrugged, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Pan rolled over so that she could scowl a little better. “Do you sleep with her, too?”

The look on Petra’s face was a mixture of incredulity and horror, and she was about to say how wrong that would be, how she could never be with Faith like that, and her mouth hung open as the look of victory came across Pan’s face so fast it shocked her. “You know I haven’t and I wouldn’t,” she finally said, knowing that she didn’t have to say anything at all. And it pissed her off to see that look still hanging there in Pan’s eyes, so she spat back, “Are you fucking Drama?”

But Pan just shook her head. “Stop acting like a teenager.”

“I am a teenager!” she shouted back, knowing exactly how it sounded. “And aren’t you the one who wanted to go sledding and play snow bunny like a kid? Turns out you’re only interested in being out here so you can get in my pants, and when I say no you act like I’m the one leading you on.” She pointed a frozen hand at Pan angrily. “You wanted to come downstairs last night. That was all you.”

Pan sat up on her knees with a stunned look. “What? You kissed me and told me to stay! You wanted it, too! And I didn’t hear you complain.”

“Well maybe…” Petra’s face scrunched up with the effort of arguing, “maybe that’s just because you’re really good in bed. I can still be angry and admit that sex with you is amazing.” And she really was trying to stay mad, but thinking about being next to Pan made it hard to hold onto her anger.

“Petra, I’m not!” Pan shouted with her hands held out wide beside her.

“What?” 

“I am not good at sex,” she said firmly, knowing that it was true. “There is nothing amazing about me.”

“You’re just acting like you have no self-confidence, which is a stupid tactic,” Petra tried to cross her arms, but the coat she was wearing was too bulky, and it just made her feel ridiculous.

“So then tell me what it is that I’m so good at.” Pan glared at her, completely unwilling to let the topic go, even though she knew Petra wanted to. She stared into her eyes and waited. “Go on.” But Petra couldn’t keep the eye contact. She looked away. “Right. I’m awkward, I’m nervous all the time that I’m doing something wrong, sometimes I can barely keep up with you. I mean, seriously, Pet, you have to give me directions all the time, which is completely stupid given that we have the same anatomy. You’d think I’d be a little better than that.” She rolled her eyes at herself. “I’m probably the worst lover you could find, and I know you’ve looked around plenty, so I have to wonder what’s wrong with your judgement if that’s all this is about.”

Petra lunged forward into the snow, crashing down onto her knees, and reached out to give Pan a hard shove. But the snow under her gave way enough that she couldn’t actually knock Pan down, and she ended up on all fours trying to keep herself from falling further. “My judgement is fucked up, and you know it,” she said through clenched teeth. “And you’re just convenient. Okay? That’s what this is. It’s easy because I know you’re always there, and you’ll never leave.”

Pan scooted herself forward on her knees and gave Petra the shove that had been meant for her. “Fuck you, Petra Baraz,” she said bitterly.

“Yeah, well fuck you, Pan Riley,” Petra shoved her back, harder this time, until Pan was sitting sideways in the snow bank. Petra saw the tears in her eyes and told herself that she didn’t care. “If you think I’m so broken, just tell me no and keep to yourself.”

“We’re stuck in the snow in the middle of fucking Idaho, screaming at each other about the relationship we don’t have, and I’m pretty sure I have snow in my pants, so I’d say we’re both broken.” Pan let out a huge sigh. “And you know I won’t say no to you.”

Petra snorted a bitter laugh at her. “If I thought you’d say no, I’d stop asking.”

Pan looked up at her. “So why do you?”

Petra chewed on her lip and sat down, feeling the cold rising up through her. It wasn’t the sort of day for sitting outside. They should keep moving to stay warm, and sitting there lashing out at each other wasn’t generating enough heat for either of them. “You’re not bad at sex. You’re just worried about what I think.” She shrugged a little. “You should let go and enjoy it.”

“You’re not worried what I think?” Pan tried to smile at her.

“Only when you flip out on me like this,” Petra smiled back. She took a deep breath and let it go. “I ask because I feel safe with you. I trust you.” She looked out at the snowy landscape and avoided Pan’s eyes. “You don’t ever hurt me.” She pushed herself to look back, to stare into Pan’s brown eyes, and she felt that terrified, curling sensation in her chest that she always got when she looked close enough at her. It made it a little hard to catch her breath. She swallowed and forced down the ache building in the back of her throat. “Someday you’ll say no to me, and you’ll find someone who can actually love you back.”

Pan leaned back on her elbows in the cold. She sank in the snow almost up to her shoulders. “Or I’ll just wear you down until you agree to try for more than a night with me.” And she tried so hard not to look at Petra with the longing she felt deep down for her, but she knew she couldn’t hide it. Petra leaned over and crawled closer to her. “Careful, Baraz. You’re supposed to be mad at me for being in love with you.”

“Oh, I am,” Petra grinned at her. She moved closer.

“I’m saying no to you right now. It’s below freezing out here.” Pan put a hand on Petra’s chest to hold her back, but it had no real effect. Petra kept coming closer until Pan had to lay back in the snow again. She gazed up and saw how determined the other girl looked. “This would officially be more than that one night I was just talking about,” she warned. “You’re dangerously close to a relationship.”

Petra smiled down at her and pressed herself onto Pan’s body, instantly feeling warm and so turned on she knew she wouldn’t make it back to the cabin without giving in to her own need. “You called me a thrill-seeker.” She lifted her leg higher and straddled Pan, leaning forward to kiss her. “And you yelled at me. You’ve never yelled at me before,” Petra scowled at her again. But she couldn’t hold it, and she pressed into Pan once more, kissing her feverishly.

And Pan completely melted into those lips, into the sensual movement of Petra’s tongue in her mouth. She could feel more of the snow creeping down her back and along her neck, and she didn’t care at all. She kissed her back with all of the passion she felt every time they were close to each other, and she had no idea how they’d work around the coats and the snow pants, and none of that mattered as long as Petra kept kissing her like that, whimpering into her mouth with lust and desire. She knew Petra wouldn’t say that she loved her, but she knew there was something that she felt, and being on the receiving end of it was so good. “If I yell,” she tried to talk as they kissed, and her words ended up being lost in Petra’s mouth more than anything, “will you be my girlfriend?”

Petra shook her head and rode Pan’s hips a little harder. “No.” She thought she could feel the girl laugh under her, so she sat up and glared at her. “I said no.”

“What if I fuck you the way you like _and_ I yell at you?” 

Pan’s smile was simply amazing, and Petra couldn’t see anything else but those sweet, pink lips. She had done everything to push her away, to hold her at arm’s length and show her that she was no good for her, but she could still feel that pulling sensation inside of her that wanted to call out Pan’s name every single time she saw her. “No,” she said again, but this time she knew she was smiling.

“Then what is it you want?” Pan asked playfully. She had to hold her breath a bit for the way Petra stared back at her. 

Petra frowned as she thought about it. “Really get mad at me sometimes. Like seriously mad. And yell a lot, out loud, in front of other people. In an embarrassing sort of way.”

“That’s it?” Pan raised her eyebrows.

Petra looked up and drummed her fingers on Pan’s shoulder. “Maybe do that thing with your tongue and your thumb every single time we have sex. You’re really good at that.”

Pan sat up and pushed Petra off to the side. “Take off your pants,” she said with authority.

“It’s twenty degrees out here. No way.”

“Okay, you just said you like it when I-”

“I didn’t ask for frostbite,” Petra snapped at her. “Later. Like inside.”

Pan growled at her. “There is no later. We never have later. We only ever have moments where you say yes to me and I say yes to you, and we both know that’s all it is. So stop fucking with my head.”

Petra’s eyes went wide. “Damn, that was really good. You just need an audience.”

“Not once I get those pants off you,” Pan warned with an angry look. “I will fuck you any way you want, but I cannot work around that much nylon and insulation.”

“Okay,” Petra said in a slightly terrified way. “I’ll try.”

“I’ll help you,” Pan nudged her over and looked for the waist of the pants under her coat.

“No, not the pants,” Petra said with a frown. She tried to take Pan’s hand, but the girl was so focused on the pants that she hadn’t seen how serious Petra was. “Dammit,” she mumbled as she finally grabbed her hand and pulled it away, “would you please just pay attention to me like my girlfriend should?” Pan froze and looked at her. “I thought I had a one track mind,” Petra rolled her eyes.

Pan could only blink. “You said you don’t love me.”

“I never said that. I said I didn’t know how to love anyone,” Petra clarified. “And I don’t.”

“But…”

She licked her lips and stared at Pan’s mouth. “When you yell at me it makes me worry that I might lose you.”

“And this is why you want me to yell at you?” Pan looked at her like she was crazy.

Petra leaned closer and pressed their faces together, kissing Pan’s cheek and breathing her in. “It makes me feel something. And I’ve… I’ve never felt anything.”

“Are you serious?” Pan breathed into Petra’s neck as the girl kissed behind her ear. But she nodded, and Pan felt it. Her heart thumped in her chest, and her breath caught in her throat as Petra bit into her neck in between kisses. “Please don’t joke about this. You have no idea how much it hurts to love you.”

Petra moved back to Pan’s lips, giving her a long, slow kiss. “Show me,” she whispered.

“No,” Pan frowned at her and turned her head to the side just a bit. “You show me for once. Show me what you feel, even if it hurts. Especially if it hurts.”

Petra felt herself panting. “Are you mad at me?” Her heart was absolutely racing. And Pan’s lips were still right there brushing against her own. She felt along her bottom lip with two fingers resting just where their lips met.

“Yes,” Pan pushed forward, diving into her mouth to kiss her again.

Petra gasped at the intensity of the emotion radiating off Pan. “Fuck, that’s hot,” she mumbled as Pan’s hand finally zeroed in the edge of her snow pants and yanked the snap open. But the hand that found its way into the pants was freezing cold, and Petra gasped again, praying Pan wouldn’t stop, needing her touch desperately. It was the only way they could both warm back up. It was the only way she could feel right again. 

“Tell me,” Pan insisted, keeping her fingers a millimeter away from where Petra wanted her. “Tell me what you feel or I swear to god I will leave you here in the snow to play with yourself.” She was completely serious. She knew Petra way too well to trust her in that moment. But for all the times they had been close, she hadn’t ever said anything like what was coming out of her mouth now. And Pan wanted to hear more. 

“Fine,” she squeezed her eyes shut impatiently. “It’s like food poisoning.”

“It’s gonna feel like a fistful of snow in your pants if you cannot be honest with me for once in your goddamn life, Petra.”

“Would you just listen to me?” Petra snapped at her. “Don’t you remember last year when I thought I was having a full-on panic attack, and you refused to believe me, and we all went out to lunch at that stupid fifties style diner place off Yesler, and Scotty got the pancakes I tasted, and they were terrible, and you insisted I was fine, and then I puked everywhere because I had bad eggs or something earlier that morning?” She waited for Pan to give her some indication that it made sense, and when she shrugged in a half-hearted way, Petra went on. “Well it feels like that… when I think you might get mad enough that you’d really walk away. Forever.” Pan just sat there staring at her. She didn’t say a word. “My heart is beating sort of hard, and it’s kind of giving me indigestion, and I’m suddenly really thirsty.”

“Do you feel anything when we kiss?” Pan asked quietly, still not willing to move her hand. But Petra was lying still next to her, which was so unusual that Pan was afraid to make too much noise breathing.

Petra nodded. “That makes it a little better.” Pan leaned in and kissed her softly. She pulled her lips away just enough to look into Petra’s eyes. “Yeah,” Petra sighed, “it’s still not gone, but…” She reached up with her hand and pulled Pan closer by putting her hand at the back of the girl’s neck. Pan kissed her deeply and lifted her hand higher, slipping it under her shirt. “Wrong direction,” Petra tried to criticize. 

“Shut up,” Pan nudged her affectionately, kissing her harder. Something inside of her was completely giddy, but it was mixed with the most vivid terror she had ever felt. “Please don’t puke in my mouth.” She pushed Petra back into the snow, keeping their lips together. The hand under her shirt was so warm that Pan could almost forget where they were. Her fingertips felt along the edge of Petra’s lower ribs, knowing how sensitive she was to being touched there. She felt the girl inhale sharply, right on cue. “Say it,” she mouthed in between kisses.

Petra opened her eyes and saw Pan holding her there with her gaze. She couldn’t look away. And the panic was right there at the front of her chest, right where she needed to breathe. “It hurts,” she said out loud, but only barely. “I want it to stop.”

Pan rested their foreheads together. She pulled her hand from the warmth of Petra’s skin and lifted it to the side of her face, stroking her gently, feeling the edge of her ear, slowly moving along all of her piercings and down to the downy soft skin just behind. “Do you want me to stop loving you?”

“No,” Petra shook her head. That part felt clear. It was so easy for her to see it. But she knew Pan wanted more. She wanted everything, and Petra didn’t know if she had the right thing inside to give her. She’d never had it before. And now all she had was this terrible, sharp pain that she couldn’t handle on her own. “Will you kiss me again?”

“Say the word girlfriend.”

Petra tried to lift her head to be closer, to kiss Pan, but she backed away just enough. She wanted to cry from all the frustration. “Fine. Girlfriend.” It felt so stupid to say it. It was stupid, and that thing in her chest seemed to move a little, like something in her was reaching out.

“Tell me I’m your girlfriend,” Pan insisted. Petra had never seen her like this, and she was scared out of her mind that the girl resting on top of her would get up and walk off if she said the wrong thing. She gripped onto her coat out of pure panic just in case.

“I want you to… be my girlfriend,” Petra struggled a little with the words. But once they were out, Pan relax enough for her to reach her lips, and she kissed her with abandon. She had to push her elbows back into the snow, but she couldn’t move the way she wanted to, and everything around her was soaking wet and freezing cold. She gave up and grabbed Pan’s coat again, falling back and taking her along. They rolled sideways a little from clumsiness as they kissed each other hungrily. 

Pan sighed happily into Petra’s smooth skin, even though a part of her was so sad inside that the ache was close to pushing tears into her eyes again. “I know you don’t mean it, but it sounds so good.”

“I’ll tell Faith.”

“You’re lying.”

“Try me!” Petra shoved her back gently. She stared into Pan’s eyes with a challenge. “If you’re my girlfriend you can’t call me a liar anymore.” They lay there in the snow and breathed as they glared at each other. “And you can’t call me kid. I hate that anyway. I’m not a kid.”

“I don’t think you’re a kid,” Pan answered in shock.

“Then don’t say it.”

“I won’t.” She took a slow breath and looked around. Everything was still frozen and white, but Pan had no idea how long they’d been outside. She wiggled her toes to bring feeling back into them. “We should go back in. It’s cold out here.”

“We can’t,” Petra frowned at her. “There’s no room for us in there. It’s too crowded.”

Pan blinked at her in wonder. “Why can’t we be inside with everybody else? You’re shivering.”

“I can’t make love to you in there with everyone else listening,” Petra said with her best ‘duh’ face.

“What did you say?” Pan couldn’t believe what was coming out of her mouth. She looked around for a second to judge if she was in a dream and just hadn’t realized it until now.

Petra rolled her eyes. “I cannot fuck you in that house with Tara and Faith listening. Willow, too.”

“That’s not what you said the first time.”

“Yes it is,” Petra tried to sit up a little. “Wouldn’t have to say it if you weren’t so damn loud.”

“You said make love.”

Petra shook her head, and her braids slipped over her shoulders throwing bits of ice around them. “I’ve never said that in my life. But it’s close enough. Can’t we just stay out a little longer?” She grabbed the front of Pan’s coat and unzipped it a few inches.

“Yeah, okay,” Pan threw herself at the girl, knowing all of this had just been a diversion for her, knowing that nothing would change. But her body was screaming for her, and she didn’t care enough about how bad everything would hurt later. A quick fix right now would help anyway.

“Girlfriends do this all the time, right?” Petra actually looked a little worried.

“Absolutely,” Pan pulled them back down into the snow, happily playing along.

____________________

Willow snuggled Tara in her arms and reach out to pull the mug of hot cocoa closer. She frowned into it. “I’m low on marshmallows,” she complained.

“I’m not sure I’ve had one of these without Bailey’s in a very long time,” Tara frowned at her own. “Drew would not approve.” She leaned back into her girlfriend’s warmth and put the mug down. She could feel Willow’s breath ruffling the top of her hair. She pulled the wool blanket higher around them. “He made some really good ones last year with Grand Marnier…”

“Do you ever miss your brother?”

Tara turned her head a bit to see Willow’s face. “Not really,” she sighed. “My mom was the only one in the family I ever really connected with. You don’t talk about your family much.” She thought for a moment. “Maybe actually never.” She sat up and turned to look at her girlfriend more closely.

“That’s because they’re assholes,” Faith sat down in the chair opposite them. 

Tara looked between them, but Willow only shrugged in agreement. “She’s right. They didn’t really like what I turned out to be.”

“They didn’t like their incredibly gorgeous, smart, amazing daughter?” Tara shook her head in amazement.

“She’s not that amazing,” Faith rolled her eyes at both of them. “But she is seriously gay as fuck, and that didn’t work out so well.” She laughed and shook her head. Tara glared at her. “Fine,” Faith crossed her arms over her chest, “she’s pretty good with computers or whatever.”

“What about Giles?” Tara tried to ask innocently. 

Faith instinctively flinched. She curled her legs up into the chair and hugged her knees to her chest. “He wasn’t around when I needed him.”

“He’s there now,” Tara reasoned.

“It’s not that easy,” Faith glared at her. “Willow knows this is off limits. How come you can’t back off about it?”

“I’m not Willow,” Tara shrugged. “And you can’t get mad at me like you can with Will, so maybe you’ll listen for a change. I know you’re angry, and I know stuff happened that you don’t want to let go of, but if you can’t see how important family is by just watching Drama with her sister…”

“I can see that!” Faith snapped at her, still clutching her own body tightly. 

Willow watched the look on Faith’s face change from anger to such sadness that she gently moved Tara to the side and got up from the couch. She crossed the worn rug and knelt down in front of her old friend. “I’ve watched you do this before, Faith. Don’t do it now,” she warned. Faith turned to look at her. The edges of her eyes were starting to turn red from everything she was holding back. 

“She has Julie,” Faith said, her voice gravelly and tired. “It’s a good thing.” But they could both feel her insincerity. She couldn’t hide it.

“She has you.” Willow extended her hand and rested it on Faith’s forearm. “She loves you. It’s so obvious.”

Tara watched them both with such sadness and love in her heart that she thought she would crumble right there on the old couch in the middle of nowhere. Somehow between all of the anger and arguments, they had remembered that they were friends. That they could still lean on each other. It made her love Willow that much more, and she ached to think of how everything in her own life was changing. Drew had been her only family, the only person in the world she trusted or needed. Now, she had this woman who had shown her what real love could feel like, and a ragtag family of friends was forming around them. She wished there was a way to explain that to Faith, to help her see that she was part of all that goodness.

“More love in her life doesn’t mean less room for you, Faith,” Tara spoke into the quiet room. 

Faith looked up at her with tears in her eyes. She looked back at Willow and rubbed her face. “I don’t know what she sees in you, Rosenberg. She’s way too gorgeous and smart for you.”

The door opened, and Drama rushed inside, throwing her coat and hat aside. She was buzzing with energy and dashed over to find Willow, signing at full speed. She stopped when she saw the look on Faith’s face, at her posture curled up in the chair. Willow sat to the side to make space for them, and Drama leaned over Faith, grabbing her with both arms. She hauled her out of the chair with all of her strength and spun her around once, then kissed her passionately. 

“I knew I was right,” Tara smiled smugly. 

But when Faith pulled away ever so gently, Drama could still see whatever that was in her eyes. ‘Why is she upset?’ she signed to Willow.

“It’s nothing,” Faith shook her head. “How did the service go? Are you okay?”

Drama looked back to Willow and signed again, frantically asking her to translate. She was moving nonstop.

“Seriously, you’ve gotta slow down, even for me,” Willow watched her with wide eyes. Drama took a deep breath and started again as Julie sat down on the couch behind her. “She says the service was fine and they’re fine and she doesn’t care about any of that if you’re upset.” 

“No, I’m fine,” she lied. Faith wanted nothing more than to take her girlfriend’s hand in her own, to feel her close, but she was signing so feverishly that Willow could barely keep up. “Jesus, Andromeda,” Faith put a hand on her shoulder, “slow the hell down.”

“Uh,” Willow watched as the signing went on, “she says you’re beautiful and amazing and she loves you, and…” she blushed, “I think you can figure that part out without my help,” she cleared her throat. “She says Julie is coming back with her, with us.” They all turned to stare at the girl on the couch who looked nervous as hell. 

“Right, sure,” Faith glanced between them, a line forming between her eyebrows. “Of course.”

Drama backed away half a step, clearly worried. She signed to Willow quickly, then took Faith’s hand in her own and marched them up the stairs and into the bedroom. She had grabbed the whiteboard along the way and tossed it onto the covers next to where Faith sat down. It was more of a slump than really sitting. Drama sighed and pulled at her hair, not quite sure what to say. She could see it all so plainly on Faith’s face. She was worried there would be no space for them now, worried that Julie would be in her life and would take all of her time, all of her attention, and she knew that was a fair way to see things. She did want Julie there, and there was so much that they had lost, so much to make up for after all of those years. It was hard to think clearly with everything there at the front, competing for her attention. 

“I really do get it,” Faith mumbled. “She’s your sister. That’s so important.”

Drama knelt down in front of her and nodded. Yes, it really was important. She pointed her finger into Faith’s chest, then into her own. You and me. 

“No, we’re good,” Faith nodded with a furrowed brow. She wouldn’t look her in the eye though. Maybe she couldn’t just yet. 

Drama shook her head. No, you don’t get it. She took Faith’s sweater in her fist and held it firm. But Faith still wouldn’t meet her eyes. She sat back on the floor and breathed for a minute, thinking. She got up suddenly and grabbed the whiteboard, scribbling furiously at it with the marker. When she was done, she turned it around and held it over her chest for Faith to read. ‘Please just look at me. Tell me why you’re so sad or upset. I know this is a lot to take in, but it’ll be okay. We can figure this out together.’

Faith read the board, then looked into her eyes with so much sadness that Drama almost dropped the whiteboard. “I just…” she looked away. “I’m just being selfish,” she finally managed. “I want you all to myself, and that’s not… Life doesn’t work like that.”

Drama put the board on the floor and sat up, moving between Faith’s legs. She wrapped her arms around the woman’s waist and pulled her in tightly, pressing their foreheads together. She took a breath and looked deep into her eyes, and then said her name very, very clearly, with no hesitation in her voice at all. “Faith.” 

And Faith looked back at her with a kind of wonder in her eyes. She reached up and traced a finger over Andromeda’s lips. “You’re getting pretty good at that,” she sighed.

Drama closed her eyes and concentrated, breathing hard again. But she was determined, and nothing was going to stop her. She pointed into Faith’s chest again, then her own. “You and me,” she said out loud. Faith held her breath listening to the words coming out. “You and me, in love,” Drama went on. Her voice felt funny, but she pressed on. “You and me, family?”

Faith was afraid to say anything, scared that she might miss another word. So she nodded over and over, and let a small, “yeah,” slip out as she kissed her, laughing and crying all at the same time. “You’re talking,” she whispered into her mouth between kisses. “You’re really talking to me.”

“Yes,” Drama nodded and pulled just far enough away to see her face, to show her how in love she really was. “I’ll say… anything… anything to keep you.” Her words didn’t sound quite right coming out of her mouth, but they were close enough, and Faith was clutching her so tightly she knew she wouldn’t let go. “I love you,” she whispered. 

“I love you and I need you,” Faith’s voice was rough between the kisses and the tears, and she rubbed her hands all over Andromeda’s back, through her hair, desperately trying to pull her closer, to feel all of her against her own body with each breath. “I can hear your voice. I can hear you talk to me. How is this even possible?” she asked as she rubbed her face against Drama’s cheek.

“It’s you,” she whispered back into Faith’s long hair, her lips on the woman’s neck. “Only you.” She backed away just a fraction and looked uncertainly at the door, and Faith knew immediately that she was thinking of the others in the house. “I can’t…” Drama tried to say, but her throat closed up suddenly, and her face twisted with the effort. 

“No,” Faith shook her head. “You don’t have to. Not ever.” She brushed the blonde hair out of Drama’s face. “Does Julie know? That you can… do this?” She tried to ask in the most delicate way she could, but she saw her girlfriend flinch. “No, it’s fine,” she rushed to say. “I won’t say anything, I promise.” She brought her back in and kissed along her forehead, breathing her in. “But this is…” she settled in against Drama’s shoulder, bracing herself against all of the emotion flooding through her from a torrential day of ups and downs. “This changes everything.”

Drama broke their contact and stood up so abruptly that Faith had to lean back on the bed to keep from falling. She watched the blonde step nervously around the small room, signing at her with a terrified expression, clearly upset, and there was no way Faith could follow everything happening with those hands. Her jaw was clenched, everything about her was tense, and it felt like they had gone back in time, back to a place where Drama couldn’t be touched or held, and there were tears in her eyes for all the frustration building up in her. She didn’t want things to change, and it was beyond terrifying to think that Faith wanted or needed her to talk now, especially since she wasn’t sure she could. 

But Faith just sat there, breathing slowly, making exaggerated motions to Drama, asking her to follow along. “Slow and steady,” she said calmly. “Just breathe with me.” 

Drama held still and inhaled, moving along to Faith’s direction, watching her, knowing somehow behind all the confusion and fear that some parts of this really couldn’t ever change. And that felt reassuring, especially when she looked into Faith’s brown eyes. Her heartrate slowed down a little, and the room didn’t feel so small anymore.

Faith stood up slowly, taking her time to move clearly, watching Drama for any signs that her motion was too much, too fast. She held her hand out, palm up, so patient that Drama knew she would stand there all afternoon waiting if she had to. “I’m not asking you to talk. I don’t want you be anything you’re not. I like the parts about you that are quiet.” She smiled just enough to make Drama want to step closer. She shuffled her feet a little. “But you can’t blame me for getting excited about your super sexy voice.”

Andromeda laughed at her, feeling the warmth of her even from two feet away. She breathed out some of the anxiety and put her hand in Faith’s, trusting her.

“You’re not even a little excited?” Faith whispered temptingly as they stepped closer together.

The blonde lifted her other hand, holding her thumb and index finger apart in front of Faith’s warm gaze.

“So maybe we could ditch the whiteboard and the paper sometimes,” Faith leaned in closer, slipping a possessive hand around Drama’s waist, “and you could say things when you feel like it?” 

Drama closed her eyes and fell into Faith’s loose embrace, stretching her arms around the brunette’s neck. She nodded. That would be nice.

“Things like…” Faith kissed the side of her face, nuzzling into her ear and pressing closer, “slower, or harder.” Her teeth grazed Drama’s neck, eliciting the slightest moan from her lips into Faith’s hair. “Or maybe just… more.” She focused on the spot on Andromeda’s neck that she knew gave her the most incredible response, and she felt the shivers move down Drama’s neck and shoulders and into her chest. She pulled the shirt loose from her jeans and slipped both hands underneath, seeking out the warm skin of her back, higher up her spine. “More of that?” Faith whispered as she kissed her neck harder.

“Yes,” Drama breathed. She turned her head away to give Faith more room and tangled her fingers in the long brown hair in her grasp. “Please.”

Faith breathed hard along Drama’s collarbone, happily running her hands down the girl’s sides to the edge of her jeans, pulling them open, fumbling with the zipper as she kissed her way up the front of her neck. “I’m pretty sure you have to leave again in a few minutes,” she managed to say in between kisses. “You have that… appointment, right? With the lawyer?”

Drama nodded with her eyes closed and felt Faith walk her backwards until she pressed them both into the wall beside the window overlooking the snowy meadow beyond the cabin. Her hands were everywhere, and Drama didn’t want any thoughts to pull her away from the sensation of their bodies against each other, of Faith’s lips and tongue on her skin, of the heat building so low, so much need and desire combining in a crush of panting and nails biting into the skin of her exposed hips now that Faith had tugged her jeans lower, giving her more room.

“Just five minutes then,” Faith kissed her mouth, keeping her gaze trained on those amazing green eyes as her hand pressed further, deep into the clawing need of the girl in her arms. She watched her eyebrows move toward each other, felt her shuddering breath, and she knew that five minutes would definitely not be enough.


	19. Chapter 19

Julie buckled the seatbelt and stared at her sister. It was still hard to believe that she was here, that they were together again. “What’s up with your hair?” she complained.

Drama panicked and ran her hands through it, blushing wildly. She looked up at the rearview mirror to see what Julie had meant. When she glanced at her sister she was still frowning back, almost like she knew what had gone on upstairs and that she didn’t approve. 

“You look fine,” Willow said from the seat behind them. “Let’s just go. We’re late.”

‘Sorry,’ Drama signed. She started the car and drove them down the long driveway to the main road, feeling a little blinded by all of the white snow. She blinked and thought about Faith still there in the cabin, waiting for her to come back, and she had to look out the side window to hide the joy in her face. And as soon as she did it she wanted to kick herself for hiding, for holding back something that made her happy, and she wondered if this was what it meant to have her sister back in her life. If she would spend all of her moments worrying about what Julie thought, trying to make her happy, doing everything to build a life for her that could atone for fifteen years lost.

“How far is it to Sun Valley?” Willow frowned at her phone. Cell reception out in the middle of nowhere Idaho was almost nonexistent. Her map wouldn’t load with any detail.

“Sixty miles,” Julie rested her head back and stared out the window. “And we’re not going to Sun Valley. That’s the ski resort area. We need to be in Ketchum. Still the same distance though.”

“I think I prefer city life these days,” Willow sighed. Farming was one thing, but this was so remote that there wasn’t much of anything but mountains and trails. She could see a herd of elk in the distance at the foothills of the Sawtooth Mountains. The sky was clear and blue, speckled with low clouds in the distance behind them as they drove down the highway. It was beautiful in its own way. Willow tried to imagine it in summer, pines covering the lower hills leading to the craggy mountain line, trails leading off to waterfalls and hidden lakes.

“Seattle, right?” Julie turned to look back at the redhead behind her. There was a sensation of nerves jumping in her belly, but she also figured the baby might be sort of squirmy right then, too. 

Willow nodded. “Have you been?” Julie shook her head and frowned some more. “It’s… nothing like this,” Willow finally said. 

“No,” Julie looked at her with something that seemed like shame or fear, but Willow couldn’t decide what it was. It was disconcerting to see a face so similar to Drama’s but with a person behind it that didn’t match her at all. Julie was so different than her sister that Willow felt adrift in conversation with her. “Boise, Missoula, Spokane, a few other cities, but nothing that far west. I’ve never even been on an airplane.” She glanced at Drama, who looked back at her, full of concern and worry. “Pop just didn’t like me going anywhere.”

“Not even for college?” Willow asked, though she could sense the answer coming.

“Oh, you must be one of them forward-thinking liberals Pop used to warn me about,” Julie suddenly smiled at her. And in that moment, she glowed just like Drama when she was happy, and Willow could see that maybe there was more beneath the surface than she knew about just yet. “You don’t grow up in a place like this and make something big of yourself without leaving. He wasn’t stupid. He knew what would happen if I got out of here.” She looked sideways at her big sister. “Which is why I’m not coming back.” She reached out and put a hand on Drama’s shoulder. They smiled at each other. “I should have come looking for you, too. Not like I have any good excuses.”

Drama had to keep her eyes on the road for all the snow and ice, but she reached up and took Julie’s hand in her own, keeping her close even though the reach across the big car was a little uncomfortable. She waited until things were quieter between them before she moved her hand closer and pointed at Julie’s belly, still keeping their fingers laced together. She glanced at her with a meaningful look. 

“I can’t just say it’s complicated and leave it at that?”

Drama snorted a laugh and shook her head, no.

Julie sighed noisily and adjusted herself in the seat, straightening up from holding her sister’s hand. “He was supposed to be my ticket out of this hellhole,” she finally said between clenched teeth. “His name is Jessie, and he was sweet at first. He got me out of the house and away from Pop, eventually,” she glared at Drama, and part of her felt like it was a fair accusation to throw at her sister, that she hadn’t been there to rescue her. “Things changed after I first met him, but I thought I could overlook it. You know how things are out here, Andy.”

“She goes by Drama now,” Willow reminded her.

“You’re seriously going to let everyone call you by the name Mom gave you?” Julie squinted at her sister.

Drama put her hand on Julie’s belly again and kept it there, waiting patiently.

“He wanted to get married,” Julie started to say, but her words unsettled Drama so badly that she had to grip the steering wheel tightly. 

She looked back and forth between the road and her sister, clearly wanting to ask if she’d done it.

“Jesus, no I didn’t,” Julie jumped at her. “How stupid do you think I am?” They both growled at each other with the same expression, and Willow was the only one who could see it. She tried not to laugh. “I said _he_ wanted to get married. I didn’t want to, and I said no. But…” her face darkened, “I still needed him. I tried getting a job in Sun Valley, but Pop took away my car when he found out I’d be gone too much. I’ve got a couple of friends who tried to help out, but… they all thought Jessie was the best thing for me, too. So I agreed to move in with him at least.” She smoothed her hair back out of her face. “Pop was furious. We had this huge argument, and Jessie almost punched him, and we took off together. I thought everything would work itself out, but as soon as we were in his place he started acting just like Pop about everything.”

“Where is he right now?” Willow interrupted her. 

Julie glanced back at her. “Deployed. Air Force. He’s not due back until April.”

Willow took a deep breath, doing her best to hang onto everything happening without pushing too hard to know more. She wasn’t family, and she didn’t know exactly how much the two girls would want her to be involved in. “But he knows about the baby, right?”

Julie hesitated, and Drama whipped her head sideways. She started signing to Willow with one hand, which wasn’t easy to pick up from behind her in the car. “I think she’s trying to say that Stanley is a small town, and there’s no way you’ve hidden that baby bump, so he’s going to know whether you told him or not.” She put her head into her hands. “Are we seriously going to help you skip town while the father of your kid is gone and might not know about all of this yet?”

“It sounded a lot better in my own head,” Julie shrugged. “I’m guessing you’ve only ever been in relationships with people who actually care about you and respect you and don’t hit you,” she said bitterly. 

Willow watched Drama visibly flinch. ‘She’s coming with us,’ she signed, looking at Willow in the rearview mirror. 

“How violent is he?” Willow asked, wishing desperately that she didn’t need to. But she had to know what they were all getting into, just how far this guy might go to track Julie down. She felt like they were jumping into a job head first with zero time for risk assessment, and the bile was already rising in the back of her throat. “Does he have a record?”

“I don’t know that much,” Julie leaned her head on the window. “But he’s going to be upset enough that I’m not here when he gets back. I have no idea how he’ll react about the baby.”

Drama reached her hand out again, covering Julie’s belly protectively. She gave Willow a look that didn’t need any translation. She was coming with them, and they would keep her safe. 

They drove on in silence for a long time, up the winding road over the mountain pass, past rivers of water crashing over rocks and ice, and Willow stared at the scenery as it passed by the car. Julie pointed out the window at one stretch before the pass at a group of antelope making their way through the snow drifts. Willow hadn’t seen them before. She blinked hard against the white of the snow to see all the details. The road twisted and climbed higher, until she could feel them start to descend a little, and then civilization came into view. A few houses by the road at first gave way to the sudden crush of buildings against other buildings on a road packed with people and cars. Apparently this is where everyone spent the winter. Theirs was the only car without skis or snowboards on top. Drama followed Julie’s directions through some side streets to park in front of a small building that looked more like a house than someplace where attorneys would work. They walked up the shoveled sidewalk and inside where they were greeted by a receptionist who looked like she belonged in a nursing home. 

“There aren’t too many probate lawyers around,” Julie shrugged while they waited in the cluttered office. “Thanks for making time for us on the weekend,” she said to the older gentleman who came in after a few minutes. They shook hands with him, and Willow had to explain that she was there to translate for Drama.

“I don’t think you’ll have too many questions, really,” he smiled in a kind way. “Miss Hayes indicated that you’re both willing to relinquish everything to settle the debts your father left?” They both nodded. “I’ve already had my wife draft up the paperwork.” He opened a folder on the desk in front of them and pointed at the pages marked with little tape arrows. “You each sign on all of these marked areas, we add the notary stamp, and then you’re absolved of the entire estate.”

Drama stared at Julie with wide eyes. “Are you sure about this?” Willow spoke for her.

Julie pursed her lips. “He owes a lot of people a lot of money.” She looked back at the attorney. “Does this mean everything is covered and we don’t have to pay anybody if they come looking?”

He nodded. “Based on what’s been presented at this time, the value of the two properties should be enough to cover the medical bills and the… recreational debts he incurred.” He thumbed through his own set of files. “If there’s any surplus remaining, you’re giving up your right to that money. But I do see that he has debt with at least three collections agencies, and more is likely to surface in the coming months.” He looked up at them over his glasses. “This is one case where I strongly recommend cutting ties with his estate.”

The sisters glanced at each other again. Drama nodded. She picked up the pen the lawyer had placed near the paperwork and signed on all of the pages, then pushed them over to Julie to do the same. 

Drama glanced at Willow and asked her to talk to the attorney, signing her question. “She’d like to know how you’ll contact them if there’s any follow-up needed. Do they have to leave anything with you?”

“Same as before,” he answered. “We have your contact information on file. But don’t hold your breath. What you’re signing ends all responsibility to this. I’ve never had one of these come back for any further resolution.” He picked up the papers, motioned to his wife, who had been standing in the corner, to notarize them, and asked her to make copies before they left. 

Everything was packaged up neatly for them when they walked outside, and Drama found herself squinting in the harsh outdoor light a lot sooner than she had anticipated. Willow stood next to her, staring around at the snow and the small town. Drama shuffled her feet for a moment, then turned and pulled Willow into a hug. When they broke apart she couldn’t look her in the face. 

“You’re welcome,” Willow shrugged. “Give me the keys. You’re tired.”

They drove back through the town and out onto the highway, up over the mountain pass and down through the snow and wind between the mountain ranges. Julie had buckled herself into the middle seat behind where Willow was driving. Drama was right next to her, and they held onto each other the whole way back. Neither of them knew what to say. 

Drama pulled open the door to the warmth of the cabin and nearly collapsed onto the kitchen counter once she knew Julie was inside, safe. Faith was right there, a hand gently holding the back of her neck, saying something sweet and comforting. Drama nodded, not quite sure what she was agreeing to, but she knew it was fine as long as Faith told her it would be. Everything in her body was exhausted. Her feet were dragging on the wood floors, and thankfully the counter was there to hold her up. She felt a steady arm wrap around her back, giving her the balance she so desperately needed, pulling her up the steep stairs to the bedroom at the end of the loft. The light dimmed, and she turned her head to see Faith there, shutting curtains, pulling back the covers on the bed, helping her sit, take off a few layers so that she could be comfortable sleeping for a while. She closed her eyes for just a moment and then remembered with a start that her sister needed her. She sat up and signed her name, prepared to walk downstairs, to see if she needed anything. 

“No, sweetie, Julie’s fine. She’s just getting something to eat. I’ll check on her. I promise.” Faith guided her gently back to the pillows, under the warm blankets, and kissed her forehead lightly as she watched her eyes drift closed. She stood there for a moment, haunting the side of the bed, waiting for the girl she loved to fall asleep. She watched her eyelids flutter and settle, saw how her breathing deepened, and knew that she could leave and Andromeda would never hear a thing. 

“I’ve never seen her like that,” Pan said quietly as Faith descended the stairs. “She just looked wiped.”

“She hasn’t really slept in two nights,” Faith shrugged, reaching for the mug of coffee Pan pushed across the counter toward her. “I know it’s early still, but maybe we should just let her sleep as long as she can.”

“We need to go get something to cook for dinner,” Tara wandered closer, leaning on the counter next to Faith. “Not like we can order a pizza out here.” She looked around the kitchen. “There are seven of us now. I know we packed a few things, but it won’t be enough for this and for breakfast before we leave tomorrow.”

Willow brushed past Tara, making sure to pause long enough to run her hand affectionately across her back. “We passed a grocery store on our way into town last night. I’ll head out and pick up a few things.” She grabbed the car keys and fished through the pile of coats hanging near the door, looking for her own. 

Julie was right behind her. “Can we stop at the house on the way? I should pick up some of my stuff. If this is it, then…” she looked around the cabin and sighed. She wasn’t exactly sad, but it was clear that this was an ending, and those always come with emotions that make the little moments harder.

“I’ll go, too,” Pan frowned at the two of them. “I have a feeling you two are likely to buy nothing but chocolate bars and Lucky Charms.”

Faith watched them go in a blur of coats and searching for hats and requests for definitely Lucky Charms now that Pan had brought them up. The door opened, a flurry of snow blew in, and then they were gone and the cabin was quiet again. She sighed noisily. “Anybody else up for a real drink?” she finally said.

“Hell yes,” Petra said as she relaxed into a chair at the little table in the corner. 

“I’ll get the glasses,” Tara moved to the other side of the kitchen. 

Faith grinned. “I knew I was better off sticking with you two.” She rummaged through her bag and pulled out the bottle she had stuffed there when Drama hadn’t been watching. She made her way to the table and poured out three glasses, clinking hers against the other two before Petra and Tara even had a moment to reach for their own, and it was swallowed and gone in a flash. “Okay, that helps,” she breathed, sinking back into her chair. 

Tara looked at the bookcase beside her and grabbed the Scrabble box, opening it and sorting out the pieces on the table. They each pulled out letter tiles and started arranging things without really agreeing to play. “Kind of a crazy day, huh?”

“Who knew her sister was her twin?” Petra said in disbelief.

Faith poured another round for herself and raised her eyebrows. “They don’t really look anything alike.” She took a long drink. “Except for the face and the hair and the eyes, and pretty much everything about them except possibly the shoulders.” She rubbed her face. “So maybe it’s a little freaky.” She picked up four letters and spelled the word ‘fuck’ on the board with an utterly disinterested expression.

“I didn’t know this game had those letters,” Tara hummed, finishing her glass of whiskey. “This is really good. What did you bring?” She pulled the bottle away from Faith and looked over the label, appreciating how pretty it was as it numbed her slightly frazzled nerves. 

Petra sniffed at her drink and frowned at Faith. “You’re gonna stunt my growth with this stuff.” She took a good-sized drink and pulled out some letters to add onto the one on the board already. “So she’s coming back with us?”

“That’s the plan, apparently,” Faith shrugged. “We talked. It’s fine,” she glanced at Tara. They shared a small smile. “I mean, except for the apartment. That part is…” she took a deep breath. “I have no idea how that’s going to work.”

“Small place?” Tara used five letters for her own word. 

“One bedroom, one bathroom, one pet woolly mammoth.” Faith dug in the bag for more letters. 

“And the baby is due in a few weeks or something?” Tara’s eyebrows shot up. “Yeah, that’s a problem.” She poured another round of drinks. “At least we won’t have to worry about packing this bottle back in the car.”

“Don’t bother being responsible,” Faith waved her hand over the glasses. “I brought two. Andromeda said to pack the essentials.” Tara snorted a laugh into her elbow.

“Drama said something about buying a house,” Petra looked at the board from the side and tried to figure out what she could spell. She settled on ‘tramp,’ and they all snickered. “I’ve got lucky letters tonight.”

“Houses are expensive,” Tara rolled her eyes. “Right now is not the time to add to the problems. Trust me.” She squinted at her letters and took another drink. 

“Yours is paid off now,” Petra glared at her. 

“With blood money,” Tara mumbled, making a face. 

Faith snorted, letting the whiskey help her along. “That’s pushing it a bit. But I agree that a house is a lot to take on, and then what?” She polished off her drink and held it out to Tara for a refill. “Are the two of them going to live there and raise the kid together? Where’s the incentive for Julie to figure out her own life?”

“What about your place?” Petra eyed Faith casually as Tara spelled something on the board between the three of them. 

Faith stared back at her in complete terror. “No way.”

“Your place is huge,” Petra defended her suggestion. 

Tara scrunched up her nose. “You want Julie to live with Faith now?”

“No,” Petra waved her hands in frustration. “Julie takes Drama’s apartment, Drama moves in with Faith. Simple.” She turned back to Faith, who was sitting with her arms folded over her chest, scowling. “Does she at least like your place?” she asked. Faith opened her mouth to say something, reconsidered, tried again, even waved her hand momentarily while she struggled with an answer. But she wouldn’t look Petra in the eye. “Oh my god, she hasn’t been in your apartment?”

Faith clenched. “Not exactly.”

Petra leaned up onto the table, pulling herself out of her chair, “How the hell did that happen? You two have been all over each other for, like, two goddamn years!”

“It’s complicated, okay?” Faith shot back. “And it hasn’t been two years! I mean it has, but it hasn’t, and this is mostly recent anyway, and her place is just easy because she invited me over, and that’s what we know.” She leaned on the table, pushing her letters around. “None of this has been simple.”

Tara set her glass down and reached across the table, taking Faith’s hand in her own. She looked at her comfortingly. “Drama does this breathing thing that would be really helpful right now.”

A breathy laugh escaped Faith’s mouth. “Does she,” she smiled. But she gripped Tara’s hand, feeling a little steadier with it there. “This is all just so… big. We’ve had to work so hard for every moment, and now…” She glanced down at Tara’s hand and back up into her very blue eyes. “I really thought you hated me.”

She shrugged, and the corners of her mouth lifted a little. “Can’t be a very good English major if you stay locked into one opinion forever.” She let Faith’s hand go, then poured them all another drink. The bottle was a lot lighter already. “That’s my bullshit answer.” She lifted her glass to the brunette. Their glasses touched lightly, and they each took a drink. “The truth is I thought you were this really terrible person before I knew you, and it turns out you’re not what I expected. And the more I find out about you, the more I realize what you’ve done to protect Will.” She tilted her head and looked into the whiskey, swirling it gently in the glass. 

Petra looked between the two older girls and sighed heavily. “Should I leave so you two can hug it out?”

“Jealous?” Faith quirked her eyebrows at Petra. 

“She can’t handle how you look at me,” Tara mumbled into her glass, giving Faith a sultry stare.

Petra and Faith both looked back at her in shock. “Damn, Maclay,” Faith sat back and smiled at her with wide eyes. “We should drink together more often. You’re fun.”

“Drama would kick your ass,” Petra raised her eyebrows at Faith in disbelief.

“You think me getting my ass kicked by a hot blonde is a bad thing?”

Petra laughed. “Can you just take your damn turn, Faith?” She leaned over and helped Faith put together a word, then played with her own tiles. She kept her eyes down when she asked, “So what’s it like anyway?”

“Getting my ass kicked by a hot girl?” Faith fired back.

Tara got up slowly to put more wood on the fire. She realized quickly just how hard they had been hitting the whiskey. “If you don’t want her to see us all drunk, you’d better pray she keeps sleeping up there.”

“How does it work with a girl who doesn’t ever talk?” Petra finally said out loud, even though that wasn’t really what she’d had on her mind.

Faith wanted to say something smart back to her, something that might sting or make her regret asking, but her mouth just hung open for a moment while she thought about it. 

“I’ll trade you,” Tara said from behind her as she closed the stove door. “Mine won’t shut up.” She was still smiling as she sat back down at the table. She watched Petra put her word on the board and looked through her remaining letters. 

Things got quiet. “She’s amazing,” Faith said into the emptiness. “She never wastes words and never says anything she doesn’t mean.” Petra looked at her with a solemn gaze. “You’re looking for me to dish details on the incredibly mind-blowing sex we have, which I clearly will not do.” She could feel Tara blushing on the other side of the table. “Oh, how I wish Rosenberg would walk through the door right now and see that look on your face,” Faith smiled wickedly.

Tara put her face in her hands. “Is it my turn yet?”

“For Scrabble or to give us details about sex with Willow?” Petra snickered.

“Please not ever!” Faith put her hands up defensively. 

____________________

Drama pushed the plate away and sat back slowly, appreciating how nice it was not to have to go anywhere else tonight. This had been the hardest day she could remember in a very long time. Faith had wanted her to sleep more, but her stomach had woken her up as soon as the scent of dinner made it upstairs. She let her head settle back on the chair as she slumped down. 

“You’re not going to get more than one compliment out of me, Rosenberg,” Faith warned with a finger in Willow’s face, “but that was a seriously amazing dinner. I had no idea you could cook like that.”

“Does that mean you’ve sobered up finally?” Willow bit back. But she was smiling at the edges.

“Not for long!” Faith laughed, getting up for the bottle resting on the kitchen counter. “Do we have more glasses?” she looked at Julie.

But Tara got up and found them, sorting them out for everyone who had missed out on the first bottle. Faith poured a very full glass for Drama and set it down in front of her. She turned to fill one for Willow and when she looked back Drama was holding her empty glass up again. “Seriously?” she beamed. “We find the one place where everyone else finally drinks like me, and we all decide not to come back ever?”

“Not much else out here,” Pan rolled her eyes. “I don’t even like whiskey and I’m all in for this round. My phone is dead, there’s no TV, and I don’t think I’ve ever been this long without internet.” She shared a quick glance with Petra who frowned at her.

“It’s barely been two days,” Tara laughed at her, “and you can charge your phone in the car tomorrow morning. Try to enjoy this place while you can.” She snuck a look at Faith and almost winked at her, but she found that she didn’t need to. The brunette was already smiling at her. They raised glasses to each other.

“So then what do you do for entertainment out here?” Willow looked at Julie with a slight frown. 

Drama stared at her with wide eyes and signed as loudly as possible, ‘You have to ask my very pregnant sister that kind of question?!’ 

Faith watched them and had to cover her face with the laugh that burst out. “If all sign language was that easy, I’d be a pro already.” 

Petra wandered through the small living room and perused the shelves along the north wall. She clicked on the old stereo on the shelf and searched for a radio station, but static was all she could find. She fished around and opened a box, staring at the contents in complete fascination. It was full of small plastic boxes with colorful covers and a handful of tiny pencils. “Holy hell, what is all of this?”

“Oh,” Julie waved her off, “that’s just my uncle’s music from the seventies and eighties. The radio hasn’t ever worked from what I remember. We used to play the tapes when our parents left us here. God, we had so much fun.” She looked over at Drama and smiled. “You wanna dance?” She got up and moved over to Petra, looking through the box for just the right thing.

“You dance?” Faith sat down next to her girlfriend. 

Nope, she shook her head. No dancing here, her face said. 

“Oh, she definitely wants to dance,” Faith said loudly to Julie. She filled up their glasses and practically lifted Drama’s for her to take a long drink.

“Let me take you back in time,” Julie laughed. She popped the tape into the cassette deck, and Petra stared at her in fascination like she had never seen such a thing. “Christ, how young are you?” Julie looked at her.

Julie hit play, and Drama had to put her glass down for all the memories that started flooding through her. She smiled up at her sister and laughed quietly. Foreigner had been one of their favorite tapes to play when they spent time at the cabin as kids. This album was older than they were, but they didn’t care. Before the end of the first song, Julie had her sister up and moving like no one else was in the house with them. Faith had to bite almost all of the knuckles on her right hand to keep quiet while she watched them dance with abandon. It was like watching MTV from her own childhood all over again. They knew all the moves, and they danced together like they had never been apart. She had never seen Drama do anything like that, and it was somewhere between adorable and hilarious. Maybe the little sister wasn’t such a bad influence after all. 

Drama felt herself moving like she was a kid again, and the room around her was so warm and so filled with good memories of her and Julie from the music pouring out of the speakers that she didn’t want the moment to stop. She thought briefly about the others girls staring at them, but her own body was laughing along with them. They stopped just as the third song came on, and Drama spun to face Faith. She was flushed and a little out of breath, and the whiskey had loosened her up fast where she had been dancing next to the woodstove. She rolled up her sleeves and unbuttoned the top of her shirt to cool off a little, which got a very happy smile out of Faith, so she held out her hand and asked with her eyes if she wanted to join her. Faith jumped at the chance and gathered her up in her arms, while everyone around them sang the chorus to “I’ve Been Waiting for a Girl Like You.” 

“You don’t dance, huh?” Faith whispered as they slow danced in the light of the lanterns hanging from the ceiling. Drama smiled and rested her forehead against Faith’s, happier than she had maybe ever been. They danced slow and close, and it was so much better than she had imagined it could be. Everything about Faith felt just right, from the way her hands pulled themselves around Drama’s waist to the gentle brush of her eyelashes along her neck as they moved closer. She noticed that Tara and Willow were doing the same thing, moving slowly on the worn out rugs in the cabin they’d never come back to after tonight. “You’re not bad for a kid from backwater Idaho,” Faith teased her. “What else are you going to surprise me with?”

Drama shrugged lightly, moving them both along to the music. She couldn’t have invented a more perfect moment if she had tried.

“My mom used to love this song,” Tara leaned into Willow. “We would sing it at full volume in the car, and her hair always looked amazing when she would blast it and dance at stoplights.”

“My parents only listened to classical music,” Willow grumbled. “I had to sneak the cool stuff behind their backs.”

“So no wild dance parties?” Tara asked her. “We could make up for that now, you know.”

“Wilder than slow dancing?” Willow squeaked. 

Petra leaned against the bookshelf and chewed on her bottom lip. She felt Pan behind her before she saw her. Her hand was there at her elbow, and it moved down slowly until their hands were together. She turned her head just enough to see Pan standing there. Her hair was still partly braided, and Petra couldn’t stand how messy it was. She reached around and pulled the hair tie off, running her hands through Pan’s light brown hair over and over. She let out a big sigh and kept her arms stretch out over Pan’s shoulders. They moved a little closer, swaying gently to the music. 

“Still want me to yell at you?” Pan smiled at her.

“Not right this minute,” Petra smiled back.

Drama let go of Faith for a few minutes to dance with her sister. They were a lot closer in height than anyone else in the room, but Julie still had to look up into Drama’s eyes from an inch or two lower. “You remember that time we stayed up all night dancing and eating all those marshmallows?”

Julie’s green eyes glittered in the dim light, and Drama smiled down at her, nodding and grinning out of control. She mimed puking, clearly remembering what happened after consuming so much sugar and fluff, and they both laughed and clung to each other. When they calmed down she lifted her chin toward the space on the floor just in front of the couch with a look in her eye that Julie clearly understood.

“Yeah,” she smiled wistfully, “I do remember sleeping there. I was always so afraid of the dark upstairs.” She sighed and leaned into Drama, hugging her as they danced slowly. “I’ll miss some of this, I guess.”

Drama could feel the extra pressure of the baby between them nudging up against her body, and she instantly felt a pang of worry. It was so nice to relax, to enjoy spending time with Julie and her friends, to remember the good times they’d had together in the cabin as kids, and she hated that her own brain couldn’t let go in such a good moment. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and stroked Julie’s long hair while the music played.

Faith and Petra watched them from the kitchen counter. “Julie said their dad was like six foot four,” Petra said in awe. “They make me feel like an Oopma-Loompa.”

“You might still have a chance if you didn’t drink that shit,” Faith tapped their whiskey glasses together.

“Is Idaho like the island of Amazons Wonder Woman comes from?” Petra asked, taking a long drink. “You know, how they’re all tall and gorgeous and have great hair?” Faith snorted out a laugh. “Honestly, look at her. She could be a model.”

“Which one?” Faith squinted.

Petra nudged their shoulders together. “I think your girl might have to grow her hair out for that. And wouldn’t that be a trip! No one would be able to tell them apart.”

“You are not selling this idea right now,” Faith topped up her drink. She watched Julie flip her extremely long hair back off her shoulders and laugh, and she saw exactly what Petra meant. There was a sort of magic about her, and it was so reminiscent of her big sister that Faith nearly choked on her whiskey. 

“I think I see what you mean,” Petra refilled her own glass, keeping her eyes mostly on Drama as she twirled her sister and caught her perfectly. “With the shorter hair, Drama looks even taller.”

“She is taller,” Faith laughed at her. “I think she’s five ten or eleven.”

Petra leaned her head to the side. “I know you’re into her arms, but she has a seriously nice ass.”

Faith shoved her with a giggle. “Would you stop objectifying my girlfriend, please? Go back to staring at Julie instead.”

“Right,” Petra squinted, “which one was that again?” Her finger pointed back and forth between the blonde sisters.

“The one who’s eleven months pregnant,” Faith sighed. “At least she can still dance. I seriously had no idea Andromeda could do that.”

“Okay,” Petra laughed back, “but they also clearly dance like dorky white girls.”

“Dude, they are dorky white girls.”

“That’s no excuse,” Petra wrinkled her nose. “You dance way better than that,” she pointed with her glass. 

Faith leaned on her elbows, completely smitten with her girlfriend dancing like a fool with her little sister. “I think it’s cute.”

Petra slapped Faith’s shoulder playfully, “Never thought I’d see the day you go soft.” She looked sideways at Pan laughing and dancing with Tara, and she couldn’t help but smile just a little. She hadn’t really noticed before just how beautiful Pan was, and now she couldn’t stop seeing it.

“You’re being extremely obvious, you know,” Faith said without looking at her.

“You usually think I’m obtuse or something.”

“Take your pick,” Faith shrugged. “But you were both pretty loud down here last night.”

Petra turned to glare at her. “I’m sorry, it’s really hard to hear you over all of that moaning and thrashing you were doing with…” she cleared her throat very intentionally and said in a breath voice, “ _Andromeda_ … last night. You keep insisting she’s not deaf, but you say her name so loud I’m not sure I believe you.” 

Faith fought everything in her to keep the blushing out of her face, and the whiskey wasn’t doing her any favors. She thought about saying something angry, but it was pretty hard to think about anything other than the tall girl dancing a few feet away. “I’m actually in a relationship. You’re leading Pan on over and over again, and it’s clear how much it breaks her heart.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “And you’re exaggerating. I was nowhere near that loud. What you heard were the sounds she makes. Not me.”

Petra swirled the whiskey in her glass and leaned against Faith. “We’re trying something new. She’s my girlfriend.” She glanced at Pan again and felt that same thing in her chest from earlier in the day, and it scared her so much that she tossed back the whole glass of whiskey in one shot. Faith was just about to mock her until she saw that, and she realized with a start that Petra wasn’t lying at all. She was sincere, and it was a look Faith had never seen on her in all the time they’d known each other. Petra looked up at her with those brown eyes that always grabbed onto something deep inside of her and asked a little hesitantly, “What does it feel like?” She flicked her eyes to Drama and back again.

“Which part?” Faith looked away from Petra, watching Andromeda again. She’d unbuttoned her shirt all the way now, and it was hanging open over the white tank top she wore underneath. She felt like she could stare at her all night.

“Being in love.” 

Faith tilted her head over to the right and rested her cheek on the top of Petra’s head. “Dizzy and out of breath. But then she smiles at me, and everything fits perfectly.” 

“What about all those nights we spent together when you were crying over her?” Petra asked quietly.

“That part hurt like hell.”

“You never told me why you were so sad.” Petra wound her arm through Faith’s elbow and kept them close. “Did it feel like food poisoning?”

“Not sure I’d put it that way,” Faith lifted her head and looked at Petra. “And it was complicated. I just wanted her, and she wasn’t ready.”

“Yeah, I know she wouldn’t sleep with you,” Petra rolled her eyes.

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Is she good at sex?”

Faith put her head in her hands and smiled at the girl next to her. “Yes. Very.”

Petra frowned at her and thought for a beat. “Would you love her if she wasn’t?”

And Faith frowned back. “Those things aren’t connected, Little P. I loved her way before we even held hands.” She looked back out at her girlfriend. “But we would have words if she was really hopeless.” Petra laughed a little at that, and Faith giggled with her. 

Petra set her glass down and walked over to the stereo, finding a new tape. She turned and took Faith’s hand. “Come on. Let’s show them how it’s done.” She pulled her back into the living room just as Faith realized she’d picked the Michael Jackson Thriller album.

Drama jumped and turned around like a giddy kid and dove right into dancing with the two. Every move she did made Petra laugh. She tried over and over to tell Drama she was doing it wrong, but nothing worked to contain her. She gave up after a short while, giving Faith a resigned look. “Okay, maybe it’s a little cute.”

“Don’t get attached,” Faith said from behind Petra, who was dancing in Drama’s arms. She looked up lovingly at Drama, who was almost a foot taller than the girl in front of her. But when she glanced sideways she saw Tara moving closer. “On second thought…” she flicked her eyes back to her girlfriend, giving her a sly wink.

Petra watched her move around them and hunt down Tara. She spared a look Drama’s way. And she could see Drama’s eyes find Faith every few moments, but there was no tension there, even when her girlfriend was clearly enjoying being close to Tara. “You know, don’t you,” she finally said, and her words made Drama look at her closely, then shrug a question back. Petra glanced at Faith again. “That she can’t even see anyone else in this room because of you.” Drama stared down at her, feeling a little bewildered. “Please,” Petra smiled knowingly. “She hasn’t so much as looked at anyone but you in two years.” Drama spared another glance at the brunette dancing not far behind her. “You have no fucking clue how lucky you are,” Petra shook her head.

But Drama reached out and pushed her lightly, just enough to get her attention. Yes I do.

‘Doing okay?’ Willow signed to Drama as they collapsed on the couch several tapes later.

‘Exhausted but happy,’ she smiled back. They watched the girls dance with Julie, and then they noticed Faith and Tara dancing pretty close. Drama glanced sideways at Willow, trying to gauge her reaction.

“Uh,” she cleared her throat, still keeping her eyes on Tara and how she moved against Faith, “you’re not worried about Faith being… you know…” She ran out of words to describe what they were seeing.

Drama grinned back at her. ‘Not in the slightest.’ It was actually kind of fun to watch. ‘Are you?’

Willow blushed. “Nah.” 

But Drama could see how she couldn’t tear her eyes away, how her breathing was stiff and forced. ‘You want me to fix this?’ Drama finally suggested. She knew what song was coming next, so she stood up. Her legs were a little steadier after taking a break for a few minutes anyway. Willow stared at her as she walked between the girls and slipped behind Faith, wrapping her arms around her waist and pulling herself up to the brunette’s back. It looked for all the world like she said something into Faith’s ear, and then they broke apart with a short kiss.

Faith wandered back to a bewildered Willow and sat down with a thump. “Jealousy issues, huh?” Willow glared back. “It’s cool,” Faith stopped her before she could say anything. “I totally needed someone to pull your girl off me anyway.” She turned sideways to taunt her a bit more. “She is smokin’ hot. I’m not sure why you’re still sitting over here while she dances with Andromeda.” She leaned over to stare with Willow as their girlfriends held each other close and slow danced. Tara and Drama were near enough to kiss, and they were smiling into each other like it was the best dance ever. “It’s not a bad show, though.”

Willow glanced at Faith, wondering how all of this was okay with her. “Maybe I should buy some whiskey when we get home.”

“It’s always been a mystery to me how everybody thinks you’re this genius, and yet you keep coming to me to bail you out on the important parts of life.” She sighed and put an arm around the redhead. “Buy her a really good bottle of gin, learn how to make a killer martini, and ask her for a lap dance once in a while.” Willow stared at her, completely out of her depth. “Live a little.”

“Willow seems a little stunned tonight,” Tara glanced at the couch, keeping Drama between her and the others. “All that awkward and nowhere to put it.” Julie had found a Cyndi Lauper tape and was playing ‘Time After Time,’ so they moved slow to the rhythm.

Drama laughed and pulled her in a little closer, turning them to the music. She didn’t really have a way to explain to Tara that she could completely out-awkward Willow any day of the week, and that today was really more of an exception than the rule. But between the shock, the exhaustion, the elation, and the emotional fatigue, there was nothing left to jump or fight in her. And anything else that had held her back had been well washed away by several large glasses of whiskey. So they danced and smiled together, enjoying the warmth and the songs.

And Tara didn’t want to give the moment up. There was something terribly romantic about dancing with Drama that she desperately hoped Willow could figure out. She was tall, her arms held Tara just right, and she clearly knew every note of the songs they were listening to. She moved perfectly to each one, obviously happy to lead, and Tara felt herself wanting to melt into her. She glanced at Faith as they turned and swayed, and saw that she was smiling happily, one arm stretched around Willow. And she wondered suddenly if Willow was happier there watching than dancing with her. 

Tara leaned forward and rested her head against Drama’s chest, and Drama spun into a bit of a panic at the contact. Her heart raced a little faster, and Tara must have felt it, must have thought it was a good sign for how she sighed with contentment. She moved them around just enough to make eye contact with Willow, and gave her the biggest ‘Get the fuck over here’ face she could manage.

Willow felt herself being pushed off the couch by Faith, who was trying her absolute best not to laugh out loud at her. She walked over behind Tara, and Drama backed away, reaching around to spin her into Willow’s waiting arms. Tara hadn’t seen it coming, so she gasped a little at the change in arms, at how deftly Drama held her from behind for just a moment to steady her until Willow had her wrapped up securely. Drama walked backwards and signed to Willow, ‘Kiss her!’

She did, and she poured everything into that kiss that was building up inside of her. All of the anxiety, all the jealousy of seeing Tara in the arms of anyone else, all of it flowed up through her hands and her mouth onto Tara’s lips. It took her breath away. She smiled into Willow’s lips and stretched her arms around her neck a little further. 

“Does that mean you still pick me at the end of the night?” Willow asked hesitantly.

Tara’s heart beat hard in her chest as she looked down into those uncertain eyes. “Every single time.”


	20. Chapter 20

Drama sat up in a panic, breathing hard. The room was too dark, and she fumbled to find the battery powered lantern on the side table. Faith groaned and reached around her, switching it on and looking up at her. “What’s wrong?”

‘Nightmare,’ she tried to sign, but her hands were shaking so badly she wasn’t sure Faith could see past that. The light helped a little.

“I’m right here,” Faith soothed her and sat up to wrap her arms around her shoulders. But the shaking only got more intense, and Drama’s breathing was coming in ragged fits. And just as Faith thought to ask if she wanted to try to talk about whatever was wrong, she felt her collapse in on her with desperate kisses and hands that were suddenly everywhere on Faith’s body. “Whoa, slow down,” she gasped. But Drama was already on top of her, pressing into her with a fevered intensity that took her breath away. And everything about how she moved and felt was so good that Faith didn’t want to say no. She reached down to pull at the edge of Drama’s tank top with both hands, and her movements were met with pulling and clutching and teeth biting hard into her shoulder through her shirt, but everything changed with Drama’s breathing, and she was sobbing and shaking with her entire body. “What’s going on?” Faith whispered up into her hair. She rolled sideways to try to see her face better, but Drama slipped out of the bed and took three steps to the corner by the window where she pounded a fist into the wall over and over. The glass in the window rattled violently. Faith sat up. She could see Drama’s body throwing itself at the wall again and again, and terrible sobbing sounds were coming out of her mouth.

There was a hesitant knock at the door, and Faith opened it with a worried look. Tara was on the other side. “Is everything okay?” Faith pulled her in and shut the door to keep as much sound in as she could under the circumstances. She didn’t want the whole house up for this. Andromeda wailed on the other side of the room, and Tara went rigid from the sounds she was hearing. “Holy shit.”

“I don’t know what happened,” Faith felt completely useless. “She’s just…”

Drama punched the wall again.

“I can see that,” Tara mumbled.

She started to move toward the wall where Drama was leaning, but Faith grabbed her elbow with a warning look. “No, she hits really hard. Trust me. You shouldn’t.”

“So this isn’t new,” Tara frowned.

“This part is,” Faith pointed at her girlfriend desperately clawing at the wall in a fit of rage and tears. She was alternating between crying and howling in what sounded like unimaginable pain. “She’s gonna break her wrist again.”

Tara squeezed Faith’s hand and walked over to Drama anyway, clearly not as scared as Faith thought she should be. She leaned on the wall next to Drama and tried to make eye contact with her. “I know you already know how to breathe through this, so start there,” she said in a soothing tone.

Drama looked at her through wild eyes and panted with her forearms pressed into the wall. But she watched Tara breathe and kept her eyes focused on that much. She wanted to sign something, to say something to her, but it was all too much with the way her muscles were seizing up. She knew Tara could hear the sounds coming out of her, and it made her want to hide and fold in on herself. But the sounds just kept coming, and she put her mouth on her arm to choke it all back. She couldn’t let anyone hear her, not now, not with all of this.

“We’re gonna sit down, nice and slow,” Tara kept talking. “Right here against the wall, super easy. You and me. Keep breathing, I’ll stay right here, and we’ll just sit down. Okay?”

Drama felt herself nod, and she watched Tara slide down slowly, moving to the floor like there was no effort in any of it. She did the same thing to keep her eyes level with Tara’s. The floor felt good. It was solid and right there where she needed the support. Her whole body felt rigid with tension, and it was making her so tired.

Faith watched like she was in a trance. The door opened beside her, and Willow came in quietly, trying to figure out what was happening without interrupting the scene. She put a hand on Faith’s shoulder, and they sat at the end of the bed and waited. Tara had them both on the floor by then, and Drama was watching her breathe in and out. Little sighing and crying sounds were still escaping from her lips as she fought to get air into her body.

“Did you know she could -” Willow started to whisper, but Faith silenced her with a quick look, followed by a guilty nod.

“So you’re gonna move away from the wall just a little,” Tara instructed, still using the same calm voice that had worked so well already. “I’m going to sit behind you, and I’ll keep you safe. Got it?”

Drama nodded, and she did what Tara told her to. She put her hands down on the old carpet and felt a wave of panic pour through her. She doubled over and cried out again, but Tara was there behind her, legs on either side of where she sat, and Tara’s arms came around slowly to pull her upright. So she sat back into her chest and tried to breathe again. The dim light in the room threw shapes and shadows around them, and she pulled her arms in away from all of it, trying to be smaller. There were hesitant words coming out now, and Tara could hear her saying the same thing over and over, “Please be quiet, please be quiet, please be quiet…”

“I’m right here,” Tara crooned. “Nobody else can hear you. I promise.” She glanced up at Willow and Faith watching them, and did her best to look reassuring. Drama took a shuddering breath and leaned back into Tara, feeling warmer. “Left arm is here,” Tara moved it into view slowly. “This one gets wrapped over your chest, just like this. Not on your neck, I promise.” Her movements were so fluid and rehearsed that Willow wanted to ask her right then and there where she had learned this, but she could see that Tara needed them to just stay still and let her do what she clearly knew so well. Her arm settled over Drama’s rapidly heaving chest, resting with her hand all the way around to the other shoulder. “Right arm on this side,” she did the same thing again. “This one goes under your arms, over your ribs.” Drama lifted her own arms out of the way just enough, and Tara stretched out around her. “You’re doing really well,” she whispered. 

But the panic boiled back to the surface, and Drama called out from the pain of it, the gripping terror that shook its way through her body. Tara stayed steady, waiting it out, breathing loudly behind her, until the moment subsided a little. “You’re going to breathe into my arms, I’m going to squeeze back a little. It’s really easy. Ready?” 

Drama sat back again, and Tara pulled her arms firmly around her. She couldn’t believe how relieving it felt just to have that pressure there against her lungs. It was grounding and warm, and she felt like her vision could come back into focus again a little more. They stayed like that, breathing with Tara’s arms wrapped protectively around her.

“It’ll come back, and that’s okay,” Tara leaned her forehead into the back of Drama’s head. “Just let it wash over, and then I’ll grab on again.” Her arms slackened just as Drama felt the wave of emotion hit again, as though Tara had known exactly what was going on inside of her. She curled over and moaned hard and low with the effort of her whole body giving in to it. It was terrifying and intense and way too much for her to take, but Tara pulled her back again with those steady arms at just the right moment, squeezing her rib cage tight. “You’ve got this. I’m right here, not moving until it’s all out.” Drama shifted a little, letting her head fall back into Tara’s shoulder, and she cried and cried while Willow wrapped a nervous arm around Faith. 

They went through the same motions several times until she finally stopped with a long shuddering breath, her head still leaning heavily on Tara. Her eyelids drifted closed, and Tara sighed in relief from the whole event. She looked up at Faith and nodded, signaling that she was pretty sure they were clear of it now. “Has she had this diagnosed?” she asked after Drama’s breathing wound down.

“Had what?” Faith’s voice barely worked after holding her breath for so long. “I don’t understand.”

Tara’s eyebrows lifted in concern. “It’s pretty clearly PTSD.” She waited for Faith to follow her, but her face was only filled with bewilderment. “She’s obviously trying to treat it with exercise and nutrition, but that’s not usually enough. Being in the car for a whole day and then all of yesterday being the shitshow it was, it’s not a surprise that she’d have an outburst like this.”

“I didn’t know that was a thing,” Faith felt terribly guilty all of a sudden. None of this had ever crossed her mind, and now she was staring at the girl she loved dozing quietly in Tara’s arms, unsure of everything she’d ever done. “It took…” she cringed and checked Andromeda’s face again, hoping she really was asleep, “it took a year. Just for me to touch her. At all really. To hold her hand.” She’d never said that out loud, and it suddenly sounded terrible to her, like it was some sort of confession to be ashamed of. She felt Willow’s arms around her and waited with closed eyes for the insult she knew was coming. 

But Willow just breathed into her shoulder and kept her arms firm. “I had no idea. I’m sorry.”

“Kind of explains the part about not talking, too, I guess,” Tara gently stroked Drama’s hair with her left hand. “Though obviously she can.” Her body had gone slack in Tara’s grasp, and she found herself wondering how they would get up from the floor with how heavy the girl in her arms felt. 

“But she’s been okay,” Faith’s face scrunched up. “Things have been good. I’ve never seen her dance before. And she-” Faith stopped, feeling like she was betraying Andromeda’s trust. But she was so crushed watching her in that kind of pain that she needed to tell someone, and Tara was so easy to confide in. “She actually talked to me today. She’s only said a few words before. But this was so much more.”

“That’s a good thing, right?” Willow pulled Faith a little closer, needing the comfort as much as Faith did. Drama looked so small and fragile in Tara’s arms that Willow felt herself starting to cry. She had thought that Drama was fierce and strong, and now she looked incredibly vulnerable.

“Everyone deals with trauma in a different way,” Tara shrugged. “We might be eager to hear her talk, but it obviously scares her in a way we don’t understand. You saw her. She didn’t want anyone to hear this.”

“But it’s not her fault,” Faith felt her own anger burning in her chest.

Tara sighed and looked at Faith lovingly. “Of course it isn’t. All I’m saying is she’s here, back where all of her trauma came from or started, at least, burying a father who was probably part of that, and finding a sister she hasn’t seen in years. That kind of stress… It’s a lot to take on.” Drama breathed sharply for a moment and then settled back into a light sleep against her chest. “She needs some sleep and some time in the morning before we go. We don’t want this happening again on the highway.”

“Tare, it’s a ten hour drive at best,” Willow mentioned. “How do we make that work?” She checked her watch. “It’s almost four o’clock. If we can’t leave early, should we wait another day?”

“Not ideal,” Tara answered. “Home and routine would be better.”

Faith dropped her head into her hands. She wanted to cry. “She should be part of this. We can’t have this discussion without her. That’s not fair.”

“Then we start with sleep,” Tara agreed. “How much does she weigh?”

Faith caught herself laugh a tiny bit, and she turned to look at the redhead next to her. “About two of her,” she jabbed a thumb at Willow’s face. They managed to get Drama off the floor and resting against Faith long enough to turn her around and slide her onto the bed. She didn’t stir at all as Faith pulled her up onto the pillows and covered her with blankets. She took Tara’s hand by the door as Willow left to get back into their own bed. “Thank you,” she said with her eyes on the floor. Tara stepped up to her and gathered her up in a warm hug, and Faith almost collapsed into her for the tears that were coming out of her. “Shit, I’m sorry,” she finally managed.

But Tara kept holding her until she knew Faith was okay to stand on her own. She stood up a little taller and brushed Faith’s hair back for her, giving her a small smile. “Definitely not what I was expecting.” Tara leaned over and kissed her forehead. “And it’s just that much harder to hate you.”

“You think it’s okay if I stay with her? Next to her?” 

Tara nodded. “I don’t think she wants to be alone, and she clearly needs you.”

Faith closed the door and crept into the bed behind Andromeda, snuggling up against her back. She listened to her breathe slowly and cried herself to sleep.

____________________

Willow peeked around the top of the bannister and saw Drama working away in the kitchen in the same light grey tank top and boy shorts from the middle of the night, despite the early morning cold. She hesitated for just a moment, wondering if she would be intruding by getting up so early. She watched the blonde mix ingredients into a bowl, then she disappeared around the corner. Willow moved down the steps slowly, trying to see where she had gone. She could hear her breathing hard and looked under the stairs to see where there was a pipe threaded through the stringers for the steps. Drama was doing pullups. She stopped when she saw Willow staring at her. 

“Good morning?” Willow tried to smile.

‘Hungry?’ Drama signed. She motioned toward the couch where Julie was still asleep, asking her to stay quiet.

Willow nodded. ‘I can help cook if you want,’ she signed without talking out loud. She glanced back at the bar under the stairs and pointed to it. ‘How do you do that?’

Drama raised her eyebrows and walked back over. ‘Give it a try.’ She pulled out a wooden box from the storage space under the lower steps. Willow wasn’t anywhere near tall enough to reach the bar without it.

‘I don’t think I have the strength for that,’ Willow looked up. But she stepped onto the box anyway, and she gripped the bar in her hands. Drama pushed her arms a little further apart and put her own hands on Willow’s hips, ready to give her a boost. Willow made it halfway up before her friend had to lift her higher. She dropped down with a grunt. “Shit, that’s impossible,” she whispered with shaky arms. She turned around and saw Drama giggling at her. ‘At least you didn’t lie about it being easy,’ she signed. 

They walked back to the kitchen, and Willow searched through the cupboards to find the trays and pans she needed for bacon and eggs. They worked quietly in the small space while Julie snored away in the living room, neither of them talking about what had happened in the night. Willow started to ask her how she felt half a dozen times without ever being able to hold her gaze long enough to start signing the right words. So she stopped trying.

In between washing dishes and mixing batter Drama would stop and do a couple more pullups or a set of pushups on the floor. Willow watched her with fascination. There was a compulsion to it, but it was obviously soothing, and Drama looked so much more like herself, even with as little sleep as they had both gotten. ‘I think Tara wishes I would do that when I make breakfast at home,’ she said after Drama came back to pour pancakes out on the cast iron griddle.

‘No she doesn’t,’ Drama smiled back. ‘But you should lead when you dance together. She likes that.’ Willow tried to laugh it off, to let go of the feeling that Tara might want something that she wasn’t, but it felt so forced that she stopped trying. She leaned back on the counter and stared out through the sliding glass doors in the living room at the snow falling in the predawn light. It was already several feet deep outside. She wasn’t sure how the car would handle more of it. Drama leaned back on the counter opposite her. ‘Bringing her out here was not a bad idea,’ she signed. ‘It’s been good for her.’

Willow looked at her with a sullen expression. ‘I think I liked it better when she hated Faith.’

‘You two are like sisters. You argue, you compete. You get under each other’s skin.’ Willow glared at her, but it proved her point. ‘You know Faith isn’t a bad person. Give Tara time to get to know her.’

“I think they got to know each other just fine yesterday,” Willow whispered angrily. 

Drama stood up and towered over her. ‘And how do you think Faith feels about me working so closely with you?’ Willow shrugged and looked away. She hadn’t actually thought about it. But Drama pressed on. ‘How do you think she feels about us signing together like this?’

That hit her. Willow could only stare up into Drama’s eyes and blink. It had never occurred to her that watching them talk could be hurtful, that it was something Faith couldn’t have with her own girlfriend. But when she had asked Willow to come with them, the pain had been right there at the surface. Willow had simply pushed it aside like she always did with Faith, never stopping to consider the cost to either of them.

“Step away from the lesbian and put some damn clothes on before I get jealous,” Faith’s voice got their attention from the stairs. Drama smiled at her and turned away from Willow, happy for the diversion. “Is there some reason you’re showing off while I’m not watching?” She stopped on the bottom step so that Drama didn’t have to look down at all to kiss her. Willow watched them together, seeing how happy they were, and she figured maybe she could be one percent nicer to Faith sometimes. “What’s for breakfast?” Faith asked, trying to see into the kitchen. 

Drama put a hand to her chest to stop her, then looked at her sternly. She used her right hand to spell out a word slowly, giving her time with each letter to figure out what she was saying. 

Faith frowned in concentration. “Cars. Carbs?” Drama lit up suddenly. “Ooh, you made me pancakes?” Faith wrapped her arms around the blonde’s neck and hugged her. “Did I miss all the pullups?”

Drama laughed, and Willow realized that sound had actually come out of her mouth, and it was nothing like the crying and howling she had done a few hours earlier. This actually sounded happy. She smiled at them and flipped the pancakes as Drama kept Faith’s arms around her neck, turning so that she hung from her back. She carried her under the stairs, then reached up for the bar and did one extremely slow and difficult pullup with all of the extra bodyweight hanging off of her neck. Faith giggled like a silly kid and hopped to the ground.

“How early do all of you get up?” Julie complained from the couch. She was scowling at her sister. Willow walked over with a cup of hot coffee, and Julie actually smiled at her. “Thanks.”

“I need your phone today,” Willow shrugged, looking a little guilty. 

“Oh, I know what that’s about,” Tara warned as she slipped down the stairs. “Say goodbye to that little thing while you still can.”

“Are we starting the purge already?” Faith groaned, letting go of Drama to pour some coffee for herself. But Drama was right there beside her, looking at Faith like she needed her so desperately that Faith wanted to cover her in kisses all over again. “Shit, does this mean you want me to be the one to tell her?”

“Tell me what?” Julie sat cross-legged on the couch and looked worried. 

Everyone else busied themselves with breakfast while Faith sat on the couch and explained to Julie that she would have to cut ties with everything in Idaho if they had a chance of keeping Jessie off her trail. “Phone, email, it’s all gotta go,” she said sympathetically. “If you’ve got friends here we can throw them off a little, but it’s really best if you don’t stay in touch with them. You have to leave everything behind.”

“And you just miraculously know how to do all of this?” Julie looked around the room at each of them. 

Drama looked at Willow and signed to her, ‘She doesn’t know anything about what we do.’

“Awkward,” Willow mumbled. “How about we sit down and have some breakfast and chat,” she looked around to Julie. 

Faith was considering drinking shots of maple syrup by the time they were done explaining everything to Drama’s little sister. The look on her face was awful, like she couldn’t believe that they were all involved in so much technically criminal activity for a solid paycheck and benefits. Most of her anger seemed to be directed at Faith, which didn’t make sense to any of them, but she was used to it. She brushed it off without firing back. Tara dried the dishes as Faith washed them, toweling each one off with a growing look of concern on her face. “Why is she so pissed off at you?”

“Why were you so pissed off at me?” Faith laughed back at her. “I get this all the time. Funny thing is, your girl is a way bigger problem child than I’ve ever been. Mostly.”

Willow glowered behind them. “I prefer the term ‘bad seed’.”

“You do have a bad girl look,” Tara agreed with a half shrug to Faith. 

“It has its advantages,” Faith flipped her hair off her shoulder, seeing Willow smoldering behind them. 

“Drama,” Willow suddenly called out loudly. “You need to finish the dishes with Faith. Tara is busy right now.” She grabbed the towel roughly out of Tara’s hand and hauled her off at full speed to the coats, grabbing two that looked good enough, and then she pulled them out the door and into the morning snow.

“What’s wrong?” Tara managed to say before Willow was suddenly all over her, covering her with kisses. She pressed them into the rough wood siding of the cabin and ran her hands through Tara’s hair, not slowing down for anything. “This is definitely…” Tara tried to say, but Willow’s mouth was on her again. “I could get used to this,” she finally managed as Willow breathed into her bare neck and pulled at her ear. 

“I want you to be for me,” Willow whispered to her. “Just for me.”

“What?” Tara pushed her back enough to look into her worried face. “What’s this about?” But she could see before Willow could even find the words to articulate how she felt. “Is this because I danced with Faith last night? Or with Drama?”

“No,” Willow shook her head like that was crazy. “Maybe a bit.” She looked miserable. “And the whiskey. And just now,” she pointed at the back door. “The way you look at her… It’s like I’m not even there.”

Tara sighed. “Baby, no.” She threaded her arms under Willow’s inside her coat, wanting her closer. “Can’t you see how I look at you?”

But there were tears in Willow’s eyes already. “Not like that,” she mumbled. “I want to be what you want.”

“How could you think that I want someone other than you?” Tara frowned at her. She leaned her head back against the wall and let out a frustrated sound. “This is what I fucking hate about having friends who are girls. Boys are so much easier.”

“I don’t get it,” Willow wiped her face with her sleeve.

“Lesbians all think I want to be in relationships with them, straight girls are terrified I might be attracted to them, but then they act all rejected when I’m not. So I usually avoid spending time with girls at all. But those two are just so easy to be around. They’re fun and they’re funny, and they got us dancing.” She pulled a hand out of the warm coat to brush Willow’s long hair back over her shoulder. “And how could you possibly be jealous with the way you danced with me last night?”

Willow leaned in and ran her lips over Tara’s cheek. “You looked happy dancing with them last night.”

“I was,” Tara nuzzled her back. “Is that such a bad thing? There’s so much joy and happiness in the world, Willow. Would you really ask me to shut that out?” Willow looked into her eyes intensely. The snow was falling hard all around them, covering them in white. “And anyway, I think they’re pretty devoted to each other. Don’t you?”

“I didn’t know,” her brows pulled together, “everything from last night was so… intense. I’ve never known Faith to be scared like that. And you…” She let herself stare into Tara’s blue eyes with abandon. “It’s like you knew exactly what Drama needed, and you were so loving.” Their foreheads touched lightly, and they leaned into each other. 

“I’m beginning to see how much alike you and Faith really are,” Tara’s mouth lifted into a delicate smile.

Willow’s head tipped back, and she rolled her eyes. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

Tara smiled against her cheek and ran her fingers through Willow’s long hair. “You’re so worried, and you can’t see how crazy I am about you.” She pressed their foreheads together again. “It’s ten degrees outside. We drove an entire day to get to nowhere, I’m standing in the middle of it with you while it snows, and I can’t imagine being anywhere other than here with you. So why don’t you just remind me why that is before we freeze out here?”

The corners of Willow’s mouth twitched up. “I can warm you up…”

“I think that would be a good idea,” Tara smiled as she felt those lips on her skin again.

____________________

“Is that everything?” Pan asked, looking around as everyone shoved bags into the back of the SUV. She was bouncing on the balls of her feet with excitement at leaving. 

Julie pulled her coat tighter around her neck and stared at the cabin. Drama was right behind her. She stretched her arms out over her sister’s shoulders and hugged her tightly. “I might kind of miss this place,” Julie said quietly. Drama rested her head on Julie’s shoulder so that they were cheek to cheek. “This was sort of our place, you know?”

Drama nodded, but then she turned Julie around, dug in her right pocket, and pulled out the keys that she kept there. She held up the one to her apartment and raised her eyebrows.

“Pretty sure that’s your place,” Julie grumbled. Drama sighed at her and butted their heads together. “I know,” Julie rolled her eyes. “It’s an adventure, and we’re together, so everything will turn out just fine.”

“You make me sound mature,” Petra mentioned as she walked by to hop in the car. Pan followed her in, desperate to get to the charger she had plugged into the backseat.

Tara hesitated at the back, ready to close the hatch once she knew everything was in. Faith had Drama’s hand in her own, and they put the last backpack in. Tara closed the door and looked at both of them with a stern glare. “You’re sure about this? Will said it’s at least ten hours.”

Willow rounded the car behind Tara, looking like she was well past ready to leave. She saw Drama look for her and sign with a concerned expression. “She says it’ll be fine and that she’s sorry for losing it last night.” Willow nudged Tara. “Specifically sorry for what she put you through.”

“What?” Tara’s eyes were wide. “That’s completely ridiculous.” Drama had a hard time looking her in the eye, but she tried. “There’s no reason to be sorry. Nobody could go through all of this without some kind of support.”

Faith wanted to get in the car and pretend all of this wasn’t happening, that Tara hadn’t been so amazing and knowledgeable when she had been so clueless. But she felt Drama gripping her hand and leaning on her just a little, and she knew better than to beat herself up too badly over everything they’d been through. 

“Keys,” Tara held her hand out to Willow. 

Willow stared at her with wide eyes. “Have you driven with chains before?”

“No better time to learn,” she chirped back, reaching quickly into Willow’s coat pocket and taking the keys for herself. She walked briskly along the car to the driver’s door, leaving the other three staring at each other in disbelief.

Drama smiled and followed Tara, opening her own door. She looked back and watched Willow and Faith standing together awkwardly, neither knowing how to say the things on their minds. 

“I know you didn’t really want to come along,” Faith mumbled.

“That’s not true,” Willow frowned at her. 

“I appreciate it anyway.” She glanced at the car and back at the redhead. “Tara’s really -”

Willow cut her off. “I know.”

Faith shrugged. “I hope so.” She sniffed in the cold. “What she did last night was sort of incredible.” Willow looked conflicted about it. She kicked at the snow. “What you did was pretty cool, too.”

At that, Willow looked up at her sharply. “I didn’t do anything. Felt pretty useless actually.”

“I didn’t mean with Andromeda, you jackass,” Faith slammed into her shoulder as she walked to the other side of the car. She could have run into her a lot harder. In fact it was actually soft, and Willow wondered if it was meant more like a hug. 

“Have you got the four wheel drive on?” Pan sounded worried and stretched as high as she could from the third row behind Tara, who was busy figuring out where all of the controls in the car were. “I thought you were more of a public transit kind of person.”

“We have airbags,” Petra shoved Pan’s shoulder with a sly grin. “We won’t die.”

“Speak for yourselves,” Julie scowled at her. “Precious cargo on board here.” She pulled at the seatbelt uncomfortably. “Four more weeks is way too long to put up with this. I am so done.”

Drama turned around and stared at her with panic in her eyes. Four weeks was way too little to get used to the idea that her baby sister was about to be a mother. She turned away and tried to settle in as Faith hopped in next to her. And she was just about to make a joke to lighten things up when she saw the look on Andromeda’s face. Faith sighed and picked up the white board from between the seats. She scribbled with the marker, ‘I get one pullup out of you, and then nothing else all day?’

Drama looked at the board and then briefly at Faith before she stared out the window again. Tara pulled the car down the long driveway, through the deep snow, sliding only a little where the roadway curved. They listened to Willow’s constant instructions to speed up or slow down or grip the steering wheel in a different way. Drama turned in her seat and looked at the cabin receding into the distance. Her hand shot out and reached for Faith in a panic.

Faith laced their fingers together calmly and guided her girlfriend through some slow breathing until she could relax a bit. “When we make our first stop, we’ll get out and exercise. We should have at least fifteen minutes,” she reasoned, and Drama hung on her every word. “That’s enough time for three sets of sprints and some stuff in between, right? You do that in the gym all the time.” Drama still looked nervous. “You want me to race you or something?” Faith suggested. 

That got a tiny smile. She took the marker from Faith and wrote on the board, ‘What do we do about the apartment?’

Faith rolled her eyes and groaned. “I really don’t know.” She looked down and unbuckled herself, sliding into the center seat and clicking that belt in. She lifted her left leg over Drama’s right, tangling them as close together as possible in the car, and then she wrapped Drama’s right arm behind her back and around her shoulder. She stuck out both of her hands on either side of their hips and squinted her eyes at the measurement, holding her hands back up for Drama to see. “I’m pretty sure this fits on your couch.” She turned to look at the blonde, inches away from her long eyelashes, and saw a smile creeping up her face.

Drama nuzzled her neck and breathed her in, feeling instantly better for the pressure of their bodies together. Her mind went back to the night before when Tara had held her so tight, and she blushed and felt a twinge of guilt. The details of her outburst were fuzzy, but she knew Faith had been there through it all, had watched the other woman soothe her and take care of her, but she couldn’t bring herself to talk to Faith about how that had felt to either of them. She felt so exposed for everything they had seen come out of her that she wanted nothing more than to hide, to curl away from it all. So she buried her face in Faith’s neck, gripping her tightly. Her right arm reached all the way around under Faith’s arm and up to where her fingers curled at the edge of her collarbone. She pressed her hand into her hard, until she could feel her body expand with each breath. They stayed together just like that all the way down the backroad, through the small town, and out into the snowy mountain pass.

Julie watched them from the back seat and pursed her lips. Petra saw her expression. “It’s a good thing,” she said quietly. “You look so mad about it.” Pan had braided Petra’s hair before they left, and she tried to tie the ends together under her chin as they drove through up the highway that would carry them through the snow and out of Idaho. “So what’s your plan?”

“Plan?” Julie looked at her suddenly.

“You wanted out, and here we go. So what’s the next step?”

Julie let her mouth hang open for a minute. Her plan really hadn’t ever been much more than leaving. And now that everything was going to be about the baby, she hadn’t had a lot of time to consider what that meant for her apart from parenthood. “What would you do? If you could start over?”

Petra narrowed her eyes a little, taking in the spitting image of Drama, trying to see the resemblance below the surface. “You really look like her, but you’re not that much alike I guess,” she finally shrugged. 

Self-consciously, Julie looked at her sister in front of her. She remembered how things had been when they were kids, how they had been inseparable and had trusted each other with everything. Once she was gone, Julie was left on her own to figure out all the rest. She put on an image of confidence to keep people at a distance, but it was all a bluff. Inside she was small and scared, and she had worked her way through clinging to different people through all of her growing up years. She could feel herself reaching out for Drama now, needing her like she had always needed someone, and she hated how that felt. As if she could feel it, Drama turned to look at her just then, and it really did feel like looking at herself in the mirror. The other girls had been joking about it all weekend, but this was the first moment she really saw it there in her sister’s face.

“I’m doing it,” Petra saved her from her own thoughts. They looked at each other. “This is what starting over looks like for me.” She glanced at Pan, who looked back at her with a warm expression and took her hand in her own. “It’s easier if you have somebody to lean on when you do it.” Petra looked back at Julie. “What about college?”

“I don’t think I’m smart enough for that,” Julie shook her head dismissively. But the seed of thought from Petra’s words nestled in her brain and stayed there while the car tires hummed over the snow with the vibration of the chains. She needed a next step.

The car was quiet for so long that Tara kept looking back to make sure they weren’t all asleep. She shared a glance with Willow, who looked worried about it, too. And when Willow looked at Faith in the seat behind her, she knew that she was working through every single minute with Drama, keeping her calm, keeping her breathing. 

“You remember that time,” she said before Willow turned away, “when Giles told us he had a surprise for us?” Willow blinked at her in shock. She never wanted to talk about him. “And I was so scared,” she went on. “I thought he was going to leave again, and I cried myself to sleep that night. Sarah was right there, but nobody could make it better. And you all kept telling me it would be alright, that he wasn’t going anywhere.”

“Yeah,” Willow answered quietly. “I remember. But…” she shifted in her seat and looked at Tara briefly, then back at Faith, “he brought the van up the next morning. It was brand new.”

“That van?” Tara raised an eyebrow.

“That van,” Willow nodded. “It was a long time ago.”

“And we were like kids in a candy store in that thing,” Faith grinned. She glanced at Andromeda whose eyes were glued to her. “But that was just the beginning. He had us pack everything up from that crummy apartment-” She stopped and looked sharply up at Willow. “You remember the bathroom in that place?”

“Still have nightmares,” she grinned back.

“I’m not sure where all of this is going,” Petra broke in from behind all of them.

“Shut it,” Tara raised a hand off the steering wheel. “I wanna hear this.”

“Thank you,” Faith said to Tara while glaring back at Petra. “So we packed up the van, and Giles started driving, and we-”

“Who’s Giles?” Pan sat up and interrupted the story.

“Her dad,” Tara looked at her in the mirror.

“Close enough,” Faith shrugged. “We drove for what felt like forever.”

“It was forever,” Willow said with wide eyes. “San Bernadino to Seattle? It was two full days of driving almost non-stop. I still don’t know how Giles stayed awake for that whole trip. And don’t let anyone fool you. The entire northern half of California is the most boring thing in the world.”

“I’ve lived my whole life in Stanley, Idaho,” Julie said in a monotone voice. “You don’t know boring.”

“Point taken,” Willow backed down.

Drama prodded Faith to continue. “Okay, so once we got into Washington, everything changed. There were trees everywhere. It was so green. Even the freeway looked beautiful. And Giles started singing,” she laughed before she could help herself. “We thought it was so stupid, but it was all this really great stuff we’d never heard.” Her smile was so amazing that Andromeda felt her heart pick up just watching her talk. 

“We didn’t even know he could sing until then,” Willow said a little wistfully. “I’d never even heard that song…” She turned to look at Faith with her eyebrows pulled together in a question.

“Behind Blue Eyes,” she said with a nod. “Totally classic. And then Sarah busted out with London Calling, and she refused to stop.” She turned to see a big smile on Andromeda’s face. “We ended up in the mountains before we knew it, and Giles drove us up this super long road with a house at the end of it, and we’d never seen anything like it.”

“Is this…?” Tara tried to ask Willow, keeping her eyes mostly trained on the snowy curves of road they were driving along. Willow just nodded back with an odd smile. She was caught up in the memory of all of it with Faith, and it felt a little funny to relive it through her perception.

“We went inside the place,” Faith leaned her head back on Drama’s arm, “and none of us knew what to say. It wasn’t just a real house, it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Now you gotta remember, I didn’t grow up with money or nice things, and my mom and I moved around a lot, so I didn’t even have my own room sometimes. So to walk into a house with this huge, gourmet kitchen and a living room that had a fireplace big enough to build an epic campfire in, I was sold on the spot.”

“Has she ever told you any of this?” Pan whispered to Petra with wide eyes. Petra shook her head with an equal look of shock on her face.

Drama tried to sign something, and Willow had to watch her again. “Oh yeah, she had her own room,” she smiled back. “We all did.” She smirked at Faith. “Sarah and Helena couldn’t be separated, but they used the closets just fine. I’d had my own room in my parents’ house, so that part didn’t wow me, but everything else did.”

“You just loved the video games,” Faith laughed at her. “You were so easily bought.” She gave Andromeda a happy smile. “He had every single satellite channel that existed!”

“Pirated,” Willow shrugged.

“Is that when you built the workshop?” Tara asked.

She nodded. “Not right away. I had to figure out electrical wiring. Hadn’t done that before.”

‘I did electrical in work release,’ Drama signed to her.

“Please stop stealing my thunder,” Willow gave her a withering look.

“What did you do out there?” Julie asked. She was still watching the scenery pass by out the window, and it occurred to her right then that everyone in the car was a lot calmer and happier with Faith and Willow telling them this story. She shook her head at herself for falling for it, too.

“We learned how to be really bad good guys,” Faith shrugged. 

Drama signed something again, and Willow gave her a funny look. “I don’t know if she will.” Faith turned to look at Drama. “She wants you to tell her more about the house,” Willow asked quietly. “But I know-”

Faith started up again without hesitation, and she used her hands to gesture as she explained everything. “The fireplace was at least as big as this bench seat. No joke. And it had this capstone at the top that went along the whole opening, and all of the stones it was made out of were from the property. We used to sit on the hearth, which was so huge, and we would roast marshmallows and sneak Giles’ cigarettes when he wasn’t watching. Everything in that room was built like a log cabin, and it was all from the side of the mountain where the house was built. It was straight out of a storybook.”

“It really is beautiful,” Tara agreed.

“You’ve been there?” Petra asked in awe from the back of the car. She instantly felt jealous.

Tara smiled back at her in the mirror. “Yeah, Willow kidnapped me in the van and took me up there.”

“You kidnapped your girlfriend?” Julie almost yelled, and everyone else in the car looked at Willow in utter shock.

And Willow really wanted to say something in her own defense, but Petra beat her to it. “Didn’t expect you to be that kinky.”

Willow raised her hand to object, and her mouth was open, but Faith didn’t give her the chance. “Told you to be careful around her. But the whole house was huge,” she went on without giving Willow the opportunity. “We got into the downstairs on the second day. Found that TV and thought we’d all died and gone to heaven. But the damn place just kept going,” she smiled with wide eyes. “It had this massive rec room with foosball and air hockey and a pool table, and there was another fireplace in there. Jesus, we had some good times in that rec room.” She looked at Willow, and they laughed together at the memory. “And it still fucking kept going,” she turned back to Andromeda, who couldn’t tear her eyes away. Her whole body had relaxed into Faith, and she’d forgotten entirely that they were driving through the mountains as she listened to the details from her past. “Will found the spa room first.”

“There’s a spa room?” Tara shot Willow an angry face. 

“Hangon,” Faith leaned forward, staring between Tara and Willow. “You kidnap a hot girl who’s actually into you, and you don’t take her to the super sexy spa room? You are impossible!” She looked straight at Tara in the rearview. “Six person hot tub, four person wet sauna, and an enormous shower, four skylights and cedar for miles. And the whole damn room overlooks the orchard on all sides.” Drama whistled long and low next to her. Faith gave her a serious look. “I am nothing like Red. No chance would I skip that part of the tour.” And the look she gave Andromeda said everything the blonde wanted to hear. She bit her lip in response.

But Pan reached forward and smacked Faith’s shoulder. “Not in my car,” she warned.

“Prude,” Faith teased her with a grin.

“Not by a long shot,” Petra said before she could help it. And Pan flicked her eyes to her so quick she knew she was either in trouble or in for something way better. Either way, Pan’s hand was still entwined with her own, and she felt her move a little closer in the cramped space of the back seat. Petra clamped her teeth down on her tongue and imagined how much better the ride would be without Julie squeezed in next to them.

“What else did I miss?” Tara glared at Willow.

“There’s a big library,” Willow made a face at the row behind her, “which I’m sure Faith will think is somehow the epicenter of sexiness.”

“For nerds, maybe,” she snorted back. But this time Drama gave her a little shove, and she remembered right then just how much Andromeda liked to read. “Does he still have the wine cellar full of bottles he refuses to touch?”

Willow was about to say yes when she saw the look on Tara’s face, and she knew she would be in even more trouble for leaving that part out, too. “Didn’t ask. We were short on time. But he’s added another greenhouse.” She chanced a look at Drama. “Are you amazing at growing tomatoes, too?”

‘Never tried,’ she signed back with a sad look.

“Ha!” Willow pointed at her in victory. “Well the acreage out there is stunning. I think he has almost a hundred acres to himself, and everything around it is a nature preserve.”

“Where the hell is this place?” Pan finally asked.

“Can’t tell you,” Willow said quickly. Her face was dead serious. “It’s still a safehouse.”

“Hangon,” Tara looked at Willow and then at Faith in the mirror. “We were running from those two,” she pointed behind her, “and you took us to the one place she knows at least as well as you do?” She scowled at the redhead. “You never said you grew up together out there.”

“We weren’t really kids anymore by then,” Willow tried to rationalize it. But when she gave Faith a bit of a panicked look, she saw her staring steadily back. “And we were running from Vector. Not Faith.”

‘She would never have hurt either of you,’ Drama signed to Willow. Faith watched her, and Andromeda felt certain that she knew what her hands were saying.

“And here’s me always getting the bad rap for everything,” Faith laughed at the irony. 

“You carry a gun,” Willow frowned back.

“For work,” Faith nearly spat at her.

“Y’all haven’t lived in Idaho,” Julie laughed at them. “Everyone out here carries a gun.”

Petra’s head turned to her in a flash. “You don’t have a gun with you, do you?”

Julie gave her a funny look and shrugged. “Of course. Don’t you?”

“Fuck!” Faith jumped up, stopped only by the seatbelt locking on her shoulder. “Pull over, Tara. Now!”

Willow put both of her hands out in a panic. “Okay, but slow down first!” She pointed to a spot further up the road where Tara could pull the car to the side. The snow was so deep they had to be careful not to get stuck in it. And this section of the road was still following the river far below, which meant it was full of twists and turns. Tara put the car in park as everyone in the car started talking at once. 

“Everybody just shut up!” Faith shouted at them. They stopped talking immediately. She turned around and gave Julie such an angry stare that the girl shrank back in her seat. “Hand it over right now.”

Julie’s hands were shaking as she opened the backpack at her feet and pulled out the handgun, holding it out for Faith to snap out of her hand. “You never said-”

Faith checked that it was unloaded, then looked it over briefly as she tried to calm down. “You carry a fucking Hellcat?” She gave the girl a wide-eyed stare.

“It has a nice grip,” she shrugged.

Faith ran her free hand through her hair and gave Drama a look that was unreadable. Drama looked at Willow and back again, feeling more than a little terrified at her reaction. She wanted to reach out and try to calm Faith down, but the brunette was at the door and pushing against the handle to open it. She stepped out into the snow and ice with no coat on, trudged through three or four feet of drifts, and then wound up and threw the weapon with full force out into the canyon below. She watched it fly through the air for a moment, then turned around and got back into the car.

“What the hell did you just do?” Julie yelled at her. “Do you know how much that cost me?” She looked longingly out the window like she could somehow run after it and find it if she just got out fast enough.

But Faith was having none of it. “Do you know what it would cost Andromeda to get pulled over with that thing in this car? Me, too.” She was absolutely fuming, and she looked briefly at Drama, finally seeing the recognition on her face that she needed. “Convicted felons cannot carry firearms across state lines, Julie. That’s a one-way ticket to concrete hell for both of us, and I am not going through that again.” She looked at the girl sitting beside her. “I will never let that happen to Andromeda. Not ever.”

“It wasn’t even yours,” Julie growled at her. “It’s registered to me.” She looked at her sister and wanted her to take her side, but Drama’s face was so distant and sad that she wouldn’t look at Julie at all. “How was I supposed to know you’re criminals?” She said with all the anger she could muster. “You never told me that.”

“Well now you know,” Faith turned around and buckled herself back in, giving Tara a look that said both, ‘thanks,’ and, ‘can we please get going again?’ Tara pulled back out onto the highway with some difficultly in the deep snow, and they moved along again. No one knew what to say after that.

Drama sighed heavily and looked at her little sister, wishing there was some way she could talk to her. She leaned forward and touched Willow’s shoulder to get her attention. ‘Will you talk for me?’

“Okay,” Willow said. She sounded a little choked up from everything. She turned in her seat so that she could watch Drama’s hands better. “I won’t tell you about juvenile detention, because it’s not like jail. It’s much worse. And I don’t want your pity, so please don’t ever ask.” Drama looked back at Julie, hoping that she would agree to that. Julie looked back at her with tremendous sadness. “I have two felony convictions, and I served time for one of them. I was let off on the second by my boss. The first one was nine months. I was lucky. Most sentences are a lot longer.” 

Faith felt like she should hold her breath as she watched Andromeda talk through Willow. She knew what prison felt like, but she also knew that their experiences were nothing alike. Drama kept her eyes forward as she signed.

“A lot of the other women in there were juvenile offenders, too. Most of them were angry all the time. I was. And it’s a terrifying place to be. You’re not safe anywhere. You can’t sleep or shower or eat without someone else right next to you trying to take what they want, and they all want what you have. And you might think that you have nothing if you’re in prison, but you always have something. Food, cigarettes, shampoo, sex, violence. You always have something someone wants.” Willow felt like choking on the words she was having to say. She’d never experienced anything like what Drama was talking about. She glanced at Tara while Drama collected herself. Tara’s face was drawn into a kind of sadness and fear Willow hadn’t seen on her since the night she and Drew had taken her away from William. That look on her face was haunting, and Willow never wanted to see it again. Drama started signing again. “The guards aren’t there to protect you. They’re only there to keep you in, to keep the situation contained. And they have all the power. They don’t just hurt you physically, they have a lot of mind games they play to fuck with your head. That’s what the whole place is about. What you see on television isn’t even close to real. People don’t come out better. Everyone gets worse.”

Julie looked up at her and scowled. “So then why do you still want to be gay after being in there?”

Drama turned around and gave her a horrified look. She turned back to Willow, who had a similar look on her face watching Julie in the back of the car. “Sorry,” Willow said without any prompting from Drama. “Didn’t you say your boyfriend beat you up? Sounds like maybe you should give up on men.”

“Not all guys are…” Julie stopped in the middle of her snarky comment, then rolled her eyes and slumped back in her seat. “Fuck you.”

Faith looked at Drama and took a deep breath. “I think I’m glad you got out of Idaho when you did, even if…” She settled on giving her a shrug. And the way Drama looked back at her, she could see that she agreed. Faith leaned a little closer and gave her a coy smile. “You know, if you’d gotten into just a little more trouble, you might have ended up in federal prison, and we could have met earlier.” And Drama couldn’t help but laugh at her. 

“How does she make prison sound romantic?” Tara asked Willow.

“She’s always been like this,” Willow waved a hand at Faith dismissively. “She could make doing the laundry sound hot.”

Faith made a face at Willow. “Isn’t laundry a turn-on for everybody?”

They stopped in Boise for gas and lunch. Willow hung back as the others headed for the restaurant. “Aren’t you coming?” Tara frowned at her.

“Just got something I need to do,” Willow reassured her. “I’ll be a few minutes. You go on. Order me something. I’ll eat in the car once we get going again.”

Tara wandered off with a sad look, but Willow seemed so certain that she let it go. Faith insisted that they stop someplace where they could get something other than cheeseburgers, which got a smile from Drama, and that made the argument completely worth it to Faith. They sat around a big table and waited for pasta and salad to arrive. Things were quiet. Julie and Drama both seemed sad and a little lost, and nothing anyone said could bring them out of it for more than a few minutes. Faith didn’t have it in her to go through any more stories to pull them out of their funk. It was bad enough she’d had to say as much as she had in the car, but it had gotten them through the worst of the start of the trip.

“There’s a lot of driving left,” Faith pulled Tara aside just as they cleared the table to leave. “I’m worried about both of them.” They walked out into the parking lot together, the girls trailing behind them with their own conversations.

Tara sighed and nodded. “Maybe crossing the border will help. We should be in Oregon pretty soon I think.” She looked over Faith’s face, taking in the fatigue and the worry she held around her eyes. “You seem pretty tired yourself. Last night was… hard.”

She shrugged. “I’ll be fine.”

But Tara reached out and put a hand on her arm affectionately. “I thought you were supposed to be a good liar.” Faith breathed a short laugh. “I know you probably didn’t like me being so close to her last night…”

“No,” Faith looked up suddenly. “I’m not…” she wanted to say she wasn’t like Willow, but she reconsidered. “What you did was amazing. It helped. I never knew anything like that was possible.” She smiled genuinely at Tara. “I wish you’d been around a couple years ago. Might have saved me a black eye.”

“Did it really get that bad?”

The look on Tara’s face made Faith feel horribly guilty about her choice of words. “No. I mean… there were just a lot of hard moments, and it was always me pushing or moving too fast.” She choked on how it all came out of her mouth. “I’m really making this sound awful.”

Tara raised her eyebrows and breathed out slowly. “It certainly has a… a hard tone to it.” She watched Faith rub her face with her hands. 

“She just…” Faith struggled with her own discomfort, “sometimes I think she just gets so scared, and it took a lot of work for us to be able to be close. For her to trust me. And then all of a sudden it was like flipping a light switch,” she lit up for just a moment at the memory. “She really is a lot better now.”

Tara smiled back. “I think the two of you have done pretty well.” She held up her hands, “No judgement from me. It’s not hard to see why you’d go through so much for her.” They both turned and watched Drama agree to put Petra on her shoulders for a run around the parking lot. Petra was squealing with delight at being so tall, even though she was terrified at how fast they were running in between cars and toward huge banks of grey snow. “I’m not sure I’ve ever known someone like her.”

Faith’s smile faltered. “You think… maybe you could teach me how to do that for her? What you did last night? Would it even work?”

She nodded, but there was worry in her eyes. “I can, but sometimes the people who are closest kind of become a trigger themselves. That doesn’t mix well. And obviously if she’s hit you before, it would be best to avoid setting yourself up for that again.” They both sighed and watched Drama carefully drop Petra down to the ground, laughing with her at their game. “She let me in last night because there’s nothing there to scare her.”

“I scare her?” Faith stood back a little, suddenly sickened at the thought that she could be making things worse.

“No,” Tara reached out again, “not like that. I mean it probably scares her to hurt you. She loves you. The last thing she wants is for her rage to strike out at you. She was hitting the wall so she wouldn’t hit you. And, bear in mind this is just a guess,” she looked seriously at Faith, “I’m assuming the times she’s hurt you might have been because she didn’t have a clear way out.”

Faith closed her eyes. “I might have eventually figured that out if you hadn’t said something.” She took a deep breath and tried to shake off all of the crap swimming around in her head. “So then maybe it’s not a great idea for me to learn your voodoo stuff.”

Tara laughed a little. “It’s not like I’m far away, you know.”

“Cool,” Faith sighed, “so I just have to convince Willow to give you up for a threesome with me and my girl anytime she has a bad day. That shouldn’t be too hard.”

Tara blushed and laughed at the same time. “Willow can’t join in the fun?”

“She would have an aneurysm just knowing you said that out loud,” Faith joked. “Might be worth it to see that.”

“What is it about the two of you getting under each other’s skin the way you do?” she shook her head.

Faith shrugged. “She’s smart, everybody always likes her… And just when you think you might win something over on her, you find out she beat you to it before you even started.”

“It’s funny,” Tara lifted an eyebrow. “She said almost the exact same thing about you when I asked her that question.” Faith looked at her in wonder. She hadn’t seen that coming. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell her you think she’s smart.”

They walked back to the car with the girls trailing behind them. Tara picked up her speed just a bit as they got closer when she saw a pair of feet at the headrest of the front passenger seat. “Willow?” she called out. Drama ran past her and pulled open the door to find Willow upside down with her head in the footwell. She was snapping the plastic cover back into place as the others gathered around. “Is this about to be a funny story or something tragic?” Tara crossed her arms. 

“Hi, sweetie,” Willow squeaked at her. “I seem to get this view of you an awful lot. Let’s hope I don’t bang my head on the way out like usual.” But Drama was there to lift her out by her knees. She slipped her other arm under Willow’s back and flipped her upright a little too quickly for comfort. “Good thing I didn’t have lunch yet,” she grinned. 

“What are you doing to my car?” Pan cried. “Did you break it?”

“No,” Willow stepped back defensively. “Just made a little modification for the ride home. I can put it back once all of this is over.”

They climbed in, and Willow explained that she had connected the old cassette tape player from the cabin to Pan’s sound system in the car. “I didn’t know Radio Shack was even still in business,” Willow said in awe, “but we passed it on the way into town, so I just went back and got a few supplies.” She held up the multitool from Pan’s glovebox with a look of admiration. “I don’t know how long you’ve had this thing, but it worked great.”

“It was my Dad’s,” Pan whispered. “Did you seriously wire that thing to my McIntosh? That cost me a fortune, and it was still used when I bought it.” The look of horror on her face was met with snickers from the other girls.

“You see what I’m saying?” Faith looked back at Tara from the driver’s seat. But Tara only smiled back. “Did you happen to bring along any cassettes to play on that thing, MacGyver?” she asked Willow.

“Yup. Julie?” she leaned over. “You’re in charge back there. Take a look under the seat in front of you.”

She did, and there was the old stereo, tucked perfectly under the middle row of seats. The cardboard box of tapes was right next to it. “It would be the most brilliant thing ever if I could actually bend over,” she mocked.

Petra traded seats with her before they took off. She sorted through the cassettes and held one up to ask Julie, “Is this David Bowie guy any good?”

“It’s very hard to tell if you’re sincere or if you’ve been living in a cardboard box your whole life,” Julie said in a monotone voice. “But I’ll admit you have me worried. Put the damn thing in and hit play.”

“I’m breaking my rule, Rosenberg,” Faith looked at her in the mirror as the music started and everyone began smiling. “You might actually be a genius, and you certainly saved this damn road trip.”

“No more Taylor Swift is a win for all of us,” Willow smiled back.

“I like Taylor Swift,” Tara muttered quietly.

“I don’t think we can be friends anymore,” Faith looked at her suspiciously.

“I’m starting to question this relationship,” Willow glared at her girlfriend.

‘I like Taylor, too,’ Drama signed, smiling at Tara.

“I refuse to translate that,” Willow looked out the window and tapped her knee as “Let’s Dance” came on.

But the classic music had just the right impact on the mood in the car, and soon they were all singing along and dancing as Faith drove them out of Idaho and across the border into Oregon. She even caught Drama mouthing the lyrics of a few songs where no one else could see her. By the time they stopped in Yakima for dinner, Drama was glowing and dancing in her seat to Prince and the Beasty Boys and Tina Turner, and she was smiling like things might really be okay after all. 

Faith slowed down behind the others as they ran inside the restaurant to order cheeseburgers. Drama turned around and walked back to her. She saw the hesitant look on Faith’s face, and a line of worry creased her eyebrows. She used two fingers to brush the dark hair away from her forehead and behind her ear gently.

“I’m okay,” Faith answered, knowing what she was asking, “just tired. I can’t drive anymore.” But the look on her face was still there, and Drama kept her eyes right there, still asking. Faith breathed roughly and crumbled just a little from fatigue and from worrying so much about Andromeda, and she threw herself into the girl’s chest with a little cry, needing to be held. Drama caught her and hugged her close, breathing into the hair at the top of her head. Faith mumbled into the soft flannel shirt under her face, “I know you have to get Julie settled, and that’s more important than anything, but can we stay together tonight?” She looked up into Drama’s green eyes. “I really need you.”

Drama leaned down and kissed Faith softly. She lifted her head long enough to glance around them, making sure they were alone, then she leaned in again and whispered, “I won’t let go.” Faith melted into her embrace.


	21. Chapter 21

December 2012

Drama crept out of the bedroom and closed the door behind her silently. A terrible dream about Julie being hurt had woken her, and she couldn’t shake it until she checked on her sister. But there was nothing wrong, and she had clearly seen how easily Julie was sleeping in her bed, snoring softly without a care in the world. Drama waved Moose off quietly. He walked back to his bed by the window. She could see the outline of Faith’s body on the couch. They had driven into the night, and everyone was exhausted when they finally got back. Drama pulled her sweatshirt higher onto her shoulders and zipped it. She felt cold still from all the driving through the snow.

When they got back to the apartment, she had woken Scotty up and sent him off with a quiet thank you. He stared in amazement at the girl behind her who looked so much like Drama that he almost stuttered. “You’re… you must be Drama’s sister.” She had smiled at him behind tired eyes. She walked off to find her way around the apartment, and Drama tried to ask him how Moose had been, but his eyes were glued to Julie. 

Drama grabbed the shoulder of his jacket and spun him to face her. She made it clear that she had her eye on him if he was interested in her sister. He didn’t need it written down to understand.

“Right,” he nodded. “Everything was fine here. Moose is great.” He glanced back at the blonde collapsing onto the couch next to Faith. “It was nice to meet you…”

“Julie,” she called back to him. She turned and gave him another smile. It was terribly sweet. She might have even bitten her bottom lip.

“Scotty,” he cleared his throat and stood up a little straighter. “Scott.”

Drama snorted a laugh out of her nose and shook her head at him, pulling him toward the door. It was almost midnight.

Julie had started snoring in the bed before Drama got her covered fully. Faith grabbed an armful of pillows and blankets, and they made a nest together in the living room, holding each other tightly as they fell asleep. She made it to four in the morning before her brain wouldn’t settle anymore, at which point she took off for a run in the dark. Eight miles later she walked back inside the apartment, tired but better. Faith was still sleeping soundly on the couch. Drama looked down at her now, at how her dark hair had wound itself in waves around the couch cushions. She ran her fingers through her own hair and sighed. Her brain was still moving a mile a minute. She sat at the kitchen island and looked out the windows of the living room at the grey light of sunrise. Everything was about to change. Julie was going to need so much. Drama didn’t even know if her sister had any clothes with her. She got up and wandered to where they had left the pile of their bags by the door. She picked up Julie’s green backpack and pulled the zipper back. Her hands fished around inside. She found a couple of shirts and some underwear. Then her hand felt something much more solid at the bottom. She pulled it out. It was a paper bag full of bundles of cash. She closed her eyes and let her forehead fall into her hand. Fuck.

She felt Faith’s eyes on her before she heard the sound of her moving on the other side of the room. “I thought you were staying with me tonight?”

Drama crossed the room and sat on the edge of the couch. Faith pulled the wool blanket up and around her, inviting her to get in, to be close. No, Drama shook her head. She grabbed the laptop on the table and opened it up. ‘Are you awake or do you need more sleep?’ she typed.

“I’m okay,” Faith adjusted herself so that she could sit on the couch and still be warm under the blanket. “You look upset about something.”

‘The fun is starting to wear off,’ Drama smirked. ‘I think there’s a lot she isn’t telling me.’

“She’s not a kid, Andromeda. She’s twenty-one and has the same right to a fucked up life as the rest of us.”

Drama’s face grew even more worried. ‘Are you mad at me?’

“No,” Faith put her head in her hands and then looked up. She took Drama’s hand in her own. “I’m not mad, I’m just… This is a lot to take in. It’s been barely three days, I didn’t even know you had any family, and now you have this sister who looks exactly like you only with long hair, and that part kinda freaks me out a little, and she’s here, she’s in your life, there’s about to be a baby, and…” She hesitated. “I liked where we were. It was you and me, and we were really starting to figure this out.” She pulled Drama’s hand up to her face and kissed it. “You haven’t tried to hit me since you got that letter. You don’t even jump anymore when I try to touch you,” she smiled slightly. “If that’s because you have her back, it’s all worth it…”

‘That’s not because of Julie,’ Drama smiled back at her.

“Then what changed?” Faith asked. She looked worried, like she had missed something really important. 

Drama used both of her hands to shape Faith’s right hand into an ‘I love you’ sign. She pulled that hand up against her chest and held it. ‘You told me you love me,’ she signed. ‘I fell in love with you and everything changed. I can’t be without you.’

Faith frowned at her guiltily. “Can you please type that out? I think I want to know exactly what you just said.” When she did, Faith’s eyelashes fluttered. “If you’re trying to soften me up, it might be working.”

‘I’ll figure all of this shit with Julie out,’ Drama typed with one hand. ‘I just need some time. If you want some space, I get it, but I really don’t want you to go.’ She looked into her eyes with determination. ‘I need you,’ she signed.

____________________

Julie stretched and yawned and got up to survey the contents of her big sister’s bedroom. She found an oversized sweatshirt from a half marathon Drama had run a year before. She trailed her hands over the books and keepsakes from Drama’s hiking adventures, felt the strings of the guitars hanging on the wall. It was clear her sister had carved out a life of her own, and Julie felt out of place being part of it so suddenly. She opened the door and stepped out into the living room. Drama had made breakfast. She let her nose lead her toward the island where Faith was finishing her omelet and complaining about Drama making her eat vegetables. She started to say good morning to them, but she stopped short when she saw the pile of cash from her backpack stacked on the counter next to her plate.

“Good morning,” Faith smiled wickedly. “How about some full disclosure with your breakfast?”

Drama wanted to smile at Faith’s words, but she kept her face emotionless and resolved. ‘I brought you out here, and I’ll do everything I can to take care of you, but it’s time for you to be honest with me,’ she wrote on the notepad on the counter. 

Julie slumped on the stool and put her head in her hands, elbows on the counter. “It’s not really a big deal, you know.”

“I’ve counted it,” Faith looked down at her. “Ten thousand is a pretty big deal.”

‘How?’ Drama wrote in big letters. She needed to know how deeply in trouble Julie was over this, and it felt like pulling teeth to get anything out of her.

Julie stuffed eggs into her mouth and glared back at the other two. “It’s an investment,” she finally admitted with a shrug. “I’m good at building portfolios.”

Faith scrunched up her face and sat back, looking confused, but Drama’s eyes flared. She scribbled madly on the paper. ‘You’re a fucking grifter just like Pop?’ Drama threw down the pencil and stormed out of the kitchen to the living room to pace back and forth.

“Andy,” Julie called out, but Faith held up a hand and looked at her angrily.

“She doesn’t like that. Her name is Drama. Get it right.”

Julie stood up and pushed a finger into Faith’s face, “Last I checked, she’s my family. Not yours.”

But Drama stepped in between then with a firm glare at each, and they both backed away onto their stools. She breathed heavily through her nose and picked up the pencil again. ‘You can’t do it anymore,’ she wrote. ‘You left that behind in Idaho.’

“Hey,” Julie said softly in between bites of her breakfast, “everything is totally cool. But we need that money for stuff for the baby, so don’t get mad at me just because I brought a solution along with me. Just tell your arm candy to back off a little.”

Faith tensed beside her, and Drama watched her get up quickly and head for the door. She ran after the brunette and caught her arm gently in the hallway outside the apartment door. Faith closed her eyes and breathed deeply when Drama turned her around. “Look,” she finally said, glancing up into her girlfriend’s face, “it’s been a long couple of days, and we’re all tired. But can you please just think clearly about this? You know she’s not telling you the truth.”

Drama let go of her arm and glanced at the door behind her, feeling torn between the woman she loved and the sister she finally had back in her life. And she didn’t even know what to say with her hands that Faith would understand, so she just decided to nod. Okay. And with that, Faith walked down the stairs and disappeared.

____________________

“I need you to get me an invite,” Scotty leaned in conspiratorially next to Petra. “It’s important.”

Petra scowled at him. “I thought you were spending Christmas with your parents and relatives.”

“I always do that,” he brushed it off. “I think this year should be about friendship. My family will always be there.” Petra thought she could see him sweating. “Plus, Willow and Tara are so cool. I’d just like to get to know them better.”

Petra kept looking at him, trying to figure this one out. “You work with Willow every day.”

“But not Tara.”

“You never even talk to Tara when we’re at the house for games or movies.” She folded her arms over her chest. “Is this about Drama’s sister, Julie?”

“What?” he panicked. “No.”

She laughed and rolled back to her computer. “I’ll see what I can do,” she smiled.

“Oh my god, thank you,” he finally relaxed. 

“She’s cute,” she glanced sideways at him.

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath. “I have to get a haircut.”

“Dude,” Petra laughed again, “she’s also like eight months pregnant or something. You don’t think that might get in the way a little?”

He shrugged. “Nobody’s perfect. And I like kids.”

Willow sat back down at her desk next to Petra, ready to plug into her headset and work through the afternoon. Petra grabbed her sleeve. “Hey, Scotty wants to come to dinner on Wednesday so he has a chance to ask Julie out on a date. Is that okay?”

Scotty’s mouth fell open in shock behind her, but Willow just grinned. “Is she into him?”

“I can ask her later,” Petra played along.

“No, no, no!” he shouted. “Not cool. You can’t do that.”

“Chill out, Dungeon Master,” Willow leaned back in her chair. “I’ll check with Tara tonight but I’m sure it’s fine. Drew is cooking, so there’s always way more food than we can eat. You might have to bring a chair though.”

Faith came up quietly behind them and sat at the edge of Willow’s desk with a worried look on her face. Willow pulled the headphones off her neck and switched her focus. “What’s up?”

“I need a favor.” Willow only raised her eyebrows in response. “It’s not approved by management,” Faith said quietly. “Are you in?”

Willow looked around them. She gave Petra and Scotty a look that told them not to get involved. They got up and moved to the kitchenette for a coffee refill. “I haven’t crossed Murdock yet. What am I in for if she finds out?”

“I thought you were good enough not to get busted, Rosenberg,” Faith taunted. “You getting slow or something?”

“Piffle,” said the redhead. “Who’s the target?”

Faith sighed and put a hand up to her forehead. “Julie.”

Willow shifted her eyes to the office where Drama was sitting and typing at her desk. “Is there some reason her big sister isn’t in on this? You know she can do this just as easily as I can. Hell,” she glanced back at Faith’s figure leaning against the desk, “you could look up almost as much as I could.” Faith shrugged and looked away casually. “Right. So I’m looking without looking like I’m looking.” She opened a new window on her computer and started working. Faith pulled out a nail file and shaped the ends of two nails while she waited. It didn’t take long before Willow let out a low whistle. They both stared at the screen, and Faith pulled a chair over to sit once she read the first file. “Really a shame that cabin didn’t have Wi-Fi. This would have been nice to know.”

“She’s sitting on a heap of cash in that apartment, and Andromeda wants to believe that she’s completely reformed now that she’s here,” Faith kept her voice low, and she kept looking at the office windows. “And she called me arm candy, the little twerp.”

“Being beautiful is such a burden,” Willow rolled her eyes at her friend.

Faith turned and smiled at her. “Aw, you think I’m beautiful?”

Willow laughed, but her face dropped and got serious. “Drama needs to know about this.”

“Well let’s tell her,” Faith looked sideways, and at that very moment Drama was walking out to the kitchen. “Come on. I still need you, C3PO.”

They both got up, but Willow shook her head, “Hanging out with geeks is a bad influence on you. That was the least cool thing I have ever heard you say.”

Drama smiled at Faith as she wandered closer, and she thought about reaching out for her, but she stopped when she felt eyes on them from the workroom. She turned and focused on the coffee she was stirring instead. Willow came around behind her and leaned on the counter. “So… uh…”

‘What?’ Drama signed.

Faith cleared her throat. “Julie has two felony warrants. Did she mention that this morning?”

Drama looked back and forth between them. ‘You did a background check on her?’ Her eyes rested on Willow, knowing she must have been the one to do the work. 

“You know,” Willow said awkwardly, “we we’re going to have to do that anyway, what with the baby and the boyfriend and stuff. So now we just have a jump on the information.” Drama signed, motioning that her words were for Faith. Willow looked across at Faith, “She knows you’re the one who asked me to do this, and she’s not pleased.”

“Yeah, well I’m not pleased that I was behind the wheel with that amount of lies sitting behind me,” Faith said through gritted teeth.

Drama frowned sharply, and Willow had to keep talking for her. “She wasn’t lying. She just hasn’t had time to tell me everything. I’m sure it will make sense.”

“Oh,” Faith faced her, “you think now she’s here suddenly she’s going to straighten up and play by the rules? Live an honest life? And she’s just magically going to tell you everything? Would you even have a clue about any of this if you hadn’t found all that cash in her bag?”

“That’s not fair,” Drama said through Willow. And Drama’s face drew together in anger at the look she was getting from Faith. “She said you didn’t like her, and clearly that’s part of this.”

“What?” Faith nearly shouted. She glanced sideways where Petra was standing along the wall giving her wide eyes, trying to tell her that their argument was too big for the space they were in, but Faith looked back at Drama. “That’s pure bullshit. She clearly doesn’t like me, but I don’t see you jumping in to defend me.”

“She said you would do this, that you would accuse her of being something terrible, and that you’d try to break me apart from her. Is that what this is about?”

Faith looked stricken. “No! That’s ridiculous. Why would I want that?”

“So that there’s more room for you in my life,” Drama said, and Willow’s voice was getting quieter, more panicked about what was happening. “I really don’t think -” she tried to interject, but Faith cut her off.

“Not by pushing Julie away.” Faith was seething. “Can’t you see what she’s doing? She’s the one driving a wedge between us so that she can use you. You’re the next con, and she will ride you until there’s nothing left! She doesn’t approve of us or of you, and she doesn’t even like who you grew up to be, which is painfully obvious in the way she looks at you. Do you really want that in your life?”

‘Maybe I don’t want this in my life!’ Drama signed in a rage. She pushed past them and stormed out of the workroom, down the hallway, and out of sight.

“What did she say?” Faith asked in a panic. Willow looked at her, but her mouth just hung open. Tears started running down Faith’s face. “What did she say, Willow?”

But Willow didn’t know how to tell her, and so she tried to look away. Tears were gathering in her eyes. Faith’s body started shaking. She gripped the counter behind her with both hands, hoping it would help her stand up. Andromeda had just run off, and the look on her face was so much worse than any punch he had ever thrown that Faith felt like she needed to vomit. “I think she’s just -” Willow tried.

Petra ran to Faith’s side and grabbed her, trying to help her stand. “Why won’t you just tell me?” Faith looked up desperately at Willow. 

“She said she doesn’t want you in her life,” Willow breathed. 

“What?!” Faith barely stayed upright with Petra’s arm under her shoulders.

“Can you please help me get her up?” Petra begged Willow. She was crying, too, but there was no way she could manage the weight of her friend alone, and she was desperate to get her out of sight, away from everyone else who had watched the entire display. She knew how bad this would end up, and Petra wanted to spare Faith some sense of dignity. 

Willow reached out and took her other arm, helping Petra pull Faith out of the kitchen. They managed to walk her to her office and into her chair before she collapsed, but at least the windows into the main workroom weren’t low enough for everyone to watch her without effort. Petra glared up at Willow. “You’re not gonna be some kind of jackass to her now, are you?”

“Why would I do that?” Willow said as she sat on the floor to be closer to Faith. She held her hand and stared at Petra with a bewildered expression. “We’ve been friends since we were kids, and she just got her heart ripped out.”

“Good,” Petra stood up.

“Where are you going?” Willow looked up at her. Faith was on her knees again, and her head had fallen onto Willow’s shoulder. 

“I can’t believe she said that,” Faith said in between shaky breaths. “After everything, why would she…”

Petra set her face with grim determination. “I’m going to kick some ass.”

____________________

Petra ran up behind Drama and grabbed hold of her shirt, pulling them both to a stop on the sidewalk in the middle of downtown. When Drama turned around, Petra slammed her fist into the blonde’s stomach with everything she had, and it caught Drama by such surprise that she momentarily doubled over. And that put her exactly eye to eye with the shorter girl, who launched at her with fury. “I fucking told you I would kick your ass if you hurt her!” she screamed. She shoved Drama’s shoulder roughly. “You made her cry! You tore her heart out!”

Drama kept walking backwards, trying desperately to stand up straight and give Petra some space, but the girl was relentless. ‘Stop!’ she tried to sign, but Petra was having none of it.

“Shut up!” she screamed. She pushed both of Drama’s shoulders with her hands, but Drama was so much taller that she finally held her ground, and Petra had to shove her whole body into the other girl. “Fucking ungrateful, self-absorbed piece of shit!” They broke apart for a moment, and Petra seethed up at her in between heaving breaths. Drama lifted her hands to sign again, but Petra slapped them down. “No!” she stuck a finger in Drama’s face. “You’ve had plenty of time to talk, it’s my turn now. I can’t fucking read sign language anyway, so you just shut the fuck up and listen for once.”

Drama breathed through her mouth and nodded, keeping her hands down. Her eyes were wide as she stared back at the tiny girl who wanted to beat the utter shit out of her.

“Faith has spent all this time waiting for you, doing everything right for you, and you have been nothing but disrespectful and full of yourself,” Petra spat. “I know what it’s like to wanna find your family, and I’m happy you have your sister back, but everyone around you has bent over backwards to be helpful. To be there for you. What has Julie done for you? Huh?” She wanted to punch Drama again, but she took a breath and scowled at her instead. “For fuck’s sake, Drama, she was breaking into Pan’s car when you found her! We helped her skip the Idaho border with an active warrant on her name, which you didn’t even bother to find out about before we left, and that’s more than enough to send Faith back to federal prison if we had gotten caught. Did you even think about that at all?”

Drama hadn’t. None of that had ever crossed her mind until this moment.

The anger was slowly leaving Petra’s body, but her face held onto it with a stubborn resolve. “Faith was right. You cannot trust Julie, and the sooner you figure that out, the better. No one is saying you have to give her up. But you need to set some boundaries and get her shit under control.” Her chest was heaving from arguing with the tall girl in front of her. “I can’t believe you’re having to take life advice from me,” she said in a quieter tone, rubbing her forehead with her hand. She looked up into Drama’s green eyes and tried to see what Faith saw in her. “Julie is a survivor, and one way or another she’ll come out just fine on the other end of this. She’s got nothing to lose. And please don’t insult me by trying to say that Faith is a survivor, too. You really have no idea what she has been through.” Drama could see the emotion welling up in Petra’s face. “She’s never done anything but save everyone else, including your sorry ass. So maybe you could show a little gratitude and ask her if she’s okay once in a while. If you actually care.”

Drama nodded again, knowing that Petra was right. ‘I do care,’ she signed.

Petra sighed at her. “I’m pretty sure I told you to shut up, and that I don’t speak sign language, so I’m just going to assume you’re agreeing that you’re a dick.”

She nodded back.

Petra crossed her arms and kept the scowl on her face. “I’m calling Tara.”

‘What?’ Drama signed. ‘Why?’

“Is English really so goddamn hard?” Petra snapped at her. 

Drama flinched and looked down quickly, like Petra had hit her again, but this time it really hurt.

And Petra knew it. She relaxed her shoulders from the clenched posture she had been holding. “Okay, I’m sorry. That was a little harsh.” She waited for Drama to look back up. “We’ll go to Tara’s place, bring Julie, Willow can translate for you. Full on intervention before this gets worse.”

Drama pulled out her phone and held it out to Petra. Faith’s picture was on the screen saver. 

“I’ll ask, but don’t get your hopes up,” Petra warned her. She watched Drama pocket the phone and shrug in a way that looked like a thank you. 

______________________

“Explain this to me again,” Drew stared at Tara from the other side of his wine glass. They were perched on the edge of the kitchen counter waiting for the timer on the oven to count through the next twenty minutes before they needed to add more red wine to the broth for the beef. “She doesn’t talk at all?”

“No,” Tara shook her head.

“And her girlfriend doesn’t know any sign language,” he said without really asking a question.

Tara’s eyebrows drew together. “I think she might know a few letters.”

“Does the pregnant sister talk?” He took a very long drink of wine while he tried to figure everything out.

“Yeah, and she’s a little surly, actually.” Tara picked up the wine bottle and refilled both of their glasses. “I should go downstairs and bring up another bottle to start breathing.”

“I’ll go,” Willow walked into the kitchen and straight down the stairs to the basement. 

“She seems tense,” Drew set his glass down and checked the oven timer. “I thought you said the road trip went okay.”

Tara sighed noisily. “It did, but it still had its challenges. There was apparently a pretty big argument at work today, and Will keeps getting caught in the middle. She’s not a very good referee.” She took another sip of wine. “Is this from that winery you mentioned earlier?” She picked up the bottle and looked at the label.

“I told you Tyler was amazing,” he beamed at her. “Since his uncle runs the place, he can get us in for tastings and a tour whenever you want to go.”

Petra popped her head around the corner. “Pour me one. Drama and Julie just pulled up outside.”

Drew squinted at her as Tara left to get the door. “Aren’t you underage still? I’m pretty sure there’s some Kool-Aid in the fridge.”

“Did you at least make it with vodka?”

Tara brought Julie inside and invited her to sit in the living room. Drama hovered just inside the door, unable to calm down. “Hey,” Tara walked back to her, “everything will be fine. You should just come in and sit.” Drama glared at her. “Or you could go find Willow and ask her if she has heavy things she needs lifted somewhere. Make yourself useful.” She pushed her toward the kitchen.

Drew walked through the dining room past them as they went the other direction, taking in the extremely tall blonde next to Tara, then turned to see the exact same face in a much smaller frame sitting on Tara’s couch. “Holy shit, they were not kidding.”

Petra was behind him with her own glass of wine. “Right?”

“It’s like Village of the Damned in here all of a sudden,” he whispered.

Willow came up from the basement with two more bottles of red wine in her arms. She nearly walked right into Drama. They stopped and stared at each other for a long moment until Tara reached around and took the bottles for herself. “Don’t you have some bags of cement mix you need to move out back, honey?”

She looked at Tara and then at Drama. “I’ll go get you a shirt you can wear. You won’t want to get that dirty.”

But Drama just unbuttoned and pulled her shirt off and handed it to Tara, walking out the back door in the t-shirt she’d had on underneath. There was no way Willow had something that would fit her. She looked over the tidy backyard, complete with a detached garage and small garden shed, and saw where Willow had cleared some space in the far corner. She felt Willow behind her, so she turned around and signed to her, ‘What are you building back there?’

Willow walked past her and lead her to the garage. They went in and found the stack of concrete mix near the door. “I’m making a chicken coop. My friends are brooding some chicks for me in a few weeks. I actually do need these moved to the back of the shed, if you’re willing to help. But they’re like sixty pounds each. I can move maybe two a day. They kill me.” She looked at the daunting pile of twenty bags with a frown.

‘Show me where they go.’ They walked around the outside of the shed to a small covered section beside it. It was enough to keep the bags dry until Willow was ready to use them. Drama nodded at her. She started to walk back to the garage, then turned around. ‘I didn’t really say thank you for going to Idaho with me,’ she signed. ‘Or for bringing Tara. I couldn’t have done it without the two of you.’ Willow pulled her arms around herself. It was bitter cold outside, and Drama was standing next to her in a t-shirt not shivering at all. ‘And I’m sorry for asking you to talk for me. You didn’t ask for any of this.’

“It’s fine until you use me to break up with your girlfriend,” Willow looked up at her. They walked back into the garage so that she wouldn’t freeze outside in the wind.

‘I wasn’t trying to break up with her,’ Drama signed with a horribly guilty look on her face. She turned and picked up a bag, tossed it onto her shoulder, and walked out the door. She was back in ten seconds. She cleared out nine more bags and then stopped to take a breath. ‘I’m afraid she won’t come tonight.’

Willow had sat down on an overturned bucket to watch the concrete bag Olympics. “You two are really harsh when you fight.”

‘We’ve never really fought before.’

“Not even when you punched her?” 

Drama took a deep breath, and then she shook her head. ‘Faith would always just wait for me to calm down, and she would stay there if I let her. I was always the one to run away. Not her.’ Willow pulled a second bucket around, flipped it over, and pushed it to Drama, who sat down opposite her. ‘I don’t understand why she’s put up with me for so long. I’m clearly not good at relationships.’

“What have your other ones been like?” Willow asked. She watched all of the color drain out of Drama’s face. She sat there, not answering. “You have had other girlfriends before, haven’t you?” But she could see the answer in her face before Drama started shaking her head, no. Willow dropped her head into her hands, resting her elbows on her knees. She peeked out between her fingers. “But Faith knows this already, right?”

Drama looked away briefly, then signed, ‘It hasn’t exactly come up.’

Drew sat on the armchair across from Julie, staring at her with disdain. She stared back at him with a similar expression. Tara walked through and sat down next to Julie, handing her a glass of water. “Nice of you two to bond.”

Petra looked at Tara from her perch next to the fireplace. “High stakes staring competition,” she mumbled. “Drew’s gonna win. Eventually she’ll go into labor and blink.”

“But not today, right?” Drew’s eyes snapped to Petra, who was smiling back at him. “I helped Tare pick out that couch. It’s definitely not machine washable.”

“I am actually sitting right here,” Julie snapped angrily. 

“Because we hauled you out of Idaho and away from your felony warrants,” Petra sat forward and yelled at her. She was still fuming from how fucked up this situation was, and she wasn’t sure who to blame for more of it. Drama wasn’t really her first choice.

“Actually,” she fired back, “because Andy forced me to come to this stupid thing, like I’m the problem.”

“Oh, you are colorful,” Drew smiled at Julie suddenly. He sat back in his chair and sipped at his wine. “What kind of charges are we looking at?”

Willow walked in through the kitchen with a worried look. “Investment fraud and money laundering.” She glanced at Tara, really wanting to talk with her privately, but Tara shook her head a fraction. Drama was right behind Willow, and she looked even more panicked than when she had arrived with her sister. Willow sighed and sat at the dining table, turning her chair to face the others. “Drama also mentioned that Julie was working one of her neighbors when she got back to her apartment.” She said it with such emphasis that Julie shrank back into the couch.

Drama glared at her sister and leaned against the wall beside where Drew sat. He turned to look up at her, and whispered, “You’re like a seriously butch Charlize Theron, you know?”

“Julie,” Tara said in her nicest voice to the girl sitting next to her, “I’d really like to say that everyone here wants to help you, but the truth is that your sister is the only one invested in that right now.” She glanced up at Drama. “And I assume even she needs to you rethink your life choices.”

Drama signed, and Willow cleared her throat to talk. “I, me being Drama, of course,” Willow blushed subconsciously, “busted you hustling my downstairs neighbor when you already have two outstanding warrants. So now I have to explain to him why he shouldn’t write you a check for some bogus investment scheme you created. All of my friends are willing to clean the slate for you, but none of that matters if you keep conning people.”

“Haven’t you thought about what happens if mister baby daddy finds out where you are?” Petra asked. Julie gulped and looked at her hands in her lap. “Child custody cases rarely favor the convicted felon.”

“This is like an ABC Afterschool Special,” Drew snickered. Tara glared at him, so he jumped up to check on dinner, pushing Drama into his chair before he skated out of the room. “I’m really just a flashy accessory,” he whispered to her. “You’re the main dish.”

“This hasn’t exactly been easy,” Julie frowned at all of them. Her eyes landed on her sister. “I’ve been on my own for a long time.” Her voice turned bitter, and it was clear that she blamed Drama. “This is what I know, and it works. I haven’t gotten caught.”

Drama signed, throwing a fierce look at Willow. “Not yet,” Willow said for her. The words kept coming out of Drama. She was signing a mile a minute, so Willow kept her eyes on those hands and did her best. “Our father did the same thing. He spent his whole life cheating people, and they chased him relentlessly. It’s no life to raise a kid in. He did get caught more than a few times, and that was before I left. We’ve got nothing from him now because of all the money he owed people.”

“And what was I supposed to learn once you were out of the house?” Julie shouted back, knowing that Willow’s voice hadn’t captured the tone Drama had meant. “Mom wasn’t around to slow him down for long, and she liked the money anyway, so I grew up this way. This is exactly what they wanted me to be, and I’m good at it.”

“But you don’t have to be this!” Drama stood up. 

She towered over her sister, but the smaller girl had the same ferocity in her eyes. “And you were always so fucking perfect? What, jail gave you some sense of nobility? Made you a better person than me?”

“I never said I was better than you,” Drama backed away, stricken, as Julie stood up and pressed closer.

“Well it’s pretty clear that’s what you think,” Julie shoved her back with a full hand to her chest. “Pretty clear that’s what Faith has been filling your head with. And don’t give me that face like you don’t know what I’m talking about,” she pointed an accusing finger up into Drama’s face. “I see exactly how she looks at me, and it’s obvious how she’s controlling you and manipulating you since you’re…” she hesitated, searching for the right words, “just fucking stupid and damaged.” Drama sat down in the chair behind her legs, completely shocked at Julie’s words. “You weren’t like this before!” Julie shouted. “You were smart and funny and you laughed out loud at my jokes. And you were tough enough to stand up to Pop for me over and over,” tears were splashing down her face as she drove her finger into her sister’s face. “You would never let anyone push you around, and you were just a skinny kid! Now look at you. You’ve got all that muscle and zero power, because you let her pull you around on a goddamn leash like you’re her bitch!” Julie was seething in anger, but Drama’s face was changing, settling into something that wasn’t afraid anymore, just terribly sad. “She’s just a cheap whore playing dyke for you because you can pass for a boy, which is exactly what Mom and Pop tried to beat out of you.”

The rest of the room was so quiet Drama could hear each of her friends breathing through the tension. She stood up slowly, forcing Julie to back away, then glanced at Willow and signed once more. Willow barely managed to make her voice work. “You never get to say another word about Faith. Not a single word. And if you do, I will put you in the car and drive you back to Idaho myself, and I’ll drop you at the first police station I find. Faith is the most amazing, patient, loving person I have ever known, and I will not give her up for anything, especially a hateful, ignorant kid who knows nothing about my life. If you can’t figure this out, you’re welcome to go right now. I’m not keeping you here.” Drama stared into her sister’s face calmly. 

A sharp intake of breath from near the front door suddenly caught her attention, and she realized that everyone had been staring that direction while she was signing and Willow was talking, so she turned. Faith was standing there in her coat, staring with tears in her eyes. There was no way for her to know how long she had been there, how much she had heard, and Drama desperately hoped she hadn’t heard the words from Julie that had cut through her like a sharp knife.

Willow looked back at Tara and had tears in her own eyes from everything she’d had to say, all the emotion that had been passed through her. And neither of them, looking at each other, could believe how terribly Julie had behaved. But they couldn’t find a way to break the silence that blanketed the room. Petra stared at them with a similar expression, utterly bewildered. 

Julie watched her older sister move quietly through the room to stand in front of Faith. Drama glanced back at Willow with wide eyes, and she turned her shoulder just enough for the redhead to follow her hands. 

“Seriously?” Willow got up and went to them, settling down next to Petra on the fireplace hearth. 

Drama gave Willow a half smile to say thank you, then looked back at Faith, who absolutely took her breath away. “I don’t deserve to have you back after what I said,” Willow spoke for her. Faith kept her eyes trained on Drama. “But seeing you makes it hard to contain my heart. I’m sorry, and I’m lost without you.”

Faith’s eyebrows quivered as she stared up into the eyes of the girl she loved. She didn’t even try to wipe the tears from her face. “I think that’s because I’m not holding your leash,” she whispered.

Drama put a hand up to her face and looked back at Julie, who had perched on the edge of the chair her sister had abandoned. ‘I honestly don’t know what to do with her,’ she signed.

But before she could turn back to Faith to apologize again, she felt arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her close, and she looked down to see Faith’s face crashing into her chest. She let her arms fall over the woman, letting go of a shaky breath as she felt their bodies press close. She wanted to say so much more, to pour out all of the pent-up emotion she had struggled with since they argued earlier in the day, but her throat seized up with everyone watching them, and all she could do was clutch at Faith with all of her strength and drink in the scent of her in between hiccupping breaths. 

She could feel Faith breathing into the space between her neck and her shoulder. “Of all the times you could decide _not_ to throw a punch, you had to pick today?” She lifted her eyes to look up at Andromeda, who gave her a half smile in response.

Petra slammed into the pair from the side, gripping them in her trembling arms and burying her face in Faith’s coat. “You can’t ever break up again,” she murmured into them. She was crying furiously. Drama pulled her left arm out and let Petra in further, not sure what else to do. She wrapped both of them up and hugged them close.

Drew poked his head out of the kitchen half a second later. “Is the Spanish Inquisition over already? The beef bourguignon is done.” He caught sight of everyone crying, having overheard the entire mess from the kitchen, and he sighed dramatically. He stopped when his eyes landed on Julie, who looked like she had just slaughtered a box of kittens in front of everyone. “Yep,” he stretched out an arm toward her, “time for you to help me in the kitchen, Faye Dunaway. You’ve done enough damage.”

She followed him through the dining room and into the kitchen, picking up plates and cutlery and doing all of the little things he instructed, until she felt like she really needed to sit down for half a second to catch her breath. She pulled out a chair at the old table in the middle of the kitchen floor and rested her head in her hands. Drew sat down next to her. He put a hand on her forearm delicately, trying to give her a bit of a smile. She glanced at him. “You don’t hate me? Aren’t you their friend?”

He looked through to the other room then back at Julie. “We’re not the Heathers,” he shrugged. “Exorcisms are hard. But at least you got some of that vile shit out of your system.” He sat up a little. “You need a hug?” He held his arms open and waited for a moment, and Julie collapsed into him like clockwork. He stroked her hair and looked at the ceiling, hoping she wasn’t going to ruin his shirt. “Girls ought to stick together more, but you’re always determined to tear each other apart. I really don’t understand that.” She breathed a small laugh into his chest. “Careful,” he warned with a playful tone. “You’re laughing at the jokes of a flaming faggot.”

She sat up and rubbed her eyes, looking into his gorgeous face and perfectly messy hair. “I sounded just like my mother in there.”

“I had one of those, too,” Drew sympathized. “But all that anger fades when you figure out how to love somebody. There just won’t be room for it anymore.”

The tears ran down her face. “I don’t hate her, I just… I just don’t know who she is anymore. I spent so much time thinking about her coming back for me, and then she did, but she doesn’t need me now. She has her.”

“She’s got more than just Faith,” Tara said as she walked in, checked the food on the stove, and leaned back on the counter with her arms crossed over her middle. “And you really are lucky she didn’t punch you for all of that. I might still be thinking about punching you on her behalf.” She looked at Drew unhappily, shaking her head at how nice he was being to Julie. “I’m not sold on her being in my house.”

But Drew looked back at his best friend softly. “Even mean girls need a little love.”

“She needs an ass kicking.”

“I think her big sister not kicking her might have actually hurt more,” he raised his left eyebrow knowingly. He looked back at Julie. “But Tara’s right. Name calling is obviously off-limits, and so are the bullying tactics your parents used on you. You’re welcome to be fucked up, but you cannot take that out on everyone around you, or you’re going to be very lonely sitting on the sidewalk out front.” He rubbed a hand on her shoulder, trying to be comforting. “And I baked bread, so you’d be pretty stupid to miss out.”

They all sat at the table, Julie in the corner next to Drew where Tara and Petra couldn’t reach her. They ate quietly, but Drama could only push the food around on her plate. She refused to let go of Faith’s hand. “You can have your right hand back to eat,” Faith whispered to her.

Drama shook her head, no, then squeezed the hand a little tighter. She glared down the long table at her sister. She glanced left at Willow, who still looked pretty angry. ‘I should take her out of here. This isn’t working,’ she signed as best she could with her left hand only.

‘No,’ Willow signed back quietly, ‘she needs to be uncomfortable. Let her suffer a little.’

‘We’re all suffering,’ Drama scowled. ‘Do you have some paper? I’ll try to talk to her alone.’

But before either of them could say anything else, Faith was up and walking through the room. She stopped behind Julie’s chair. “Come on. Let’s go deal with this.” She looked for Tara. “Bedroom that way?” she pointed.

“Yeah, but…” Tara’s voice felt thin, and she tried to stand up.

Faith held up a hand to stop her. “It’ll be fine.” She walked out, expecting Julie to follow her. Once they were in the bedroom around the corner she shut the door and pointed to the bed for the girl to sit. “Nobody can take much more of this.”

“I know,” Julie looked at the floor.

“And you’re the one to blame. You got us stuck here after we all bent over backwards for you.” She looked out the window at the front yard, which was now shrouded in darkness. “Technically we did this for Andromeda.” She looked over her shoulder. “I really don’t give a single fuck what you think about me. You can call me a whore anytime you want, and you won’t even get my blood pressure up. But how dare you talk to your sister like that?” Julie stared back at her with her mouth open, looking absolutely useless. “She didn’t drive all the way out there in six feet of snow for a funeral. She would have skipped that part entirely if that’s all it had been.” Faith turned around and walked over to the bed, sitting next to Julie. “Losing you as a kid really broke something in her, and finding you again was the most important thing she could do. And I wasn’t going to let her go through all of that alone. None of us wanted that. Because we all love her, and we all want her to be happy.” She ran her hands through her hair, pulling it back out of her face. “A lot has changed in fifteen years. I don’t think you know who she is, and that makes me sad. Because you’re missing out.”

Julie leaned back on the bed awkwardly. “I don’t know how to talk to her when she won’t talk to me. Out loud.”

Faith shook her head. “Well you better figure out how to get past that, or you’re going to lose her. She’s still sitting out there, waiting for you after all this time, after all those terrible things you said to her. And that’s a lot harder to work with than being quiet. Trust me,” she laughed, “this whore dyke has been through it long enough.”

Julie cringed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

“Yeah, you did,” Faith looked away. “At least it was a little creative.” They heard a soft knock at the door. Faith went over, opened the door, and let Drama in. They looked at each other. Drama’s forehead dropped onto Faith’s, and they stood there for a moment together. Faith put two fingers into her girlfriend’s chest and looked up into her green eyes. She put the fingers against her own chest, then grabbed onto Drama’s shirt, pulling her close for a soft kiss. “Try not to kill her.” She walked out and left the sisters alone.

“She’s not -” Julie tried to start, but Drama reached out lightning fast and put her hand up. “Right. Sorry.”

Drama sighed and sat down next to her. She had a legal pad in one hand, a pen in the other. ‘I know you want me to talk, but I can’t. That doesn’t make me stupid.’ She watched Julie take a deep breath and nod. ‘Maybe all of this was a mistake.’

“Please don’t say that,” Julie frowned. “You’re my big sister, and I just wanted you to need me like I need you. And I know I royally screwed that up, and now you’re ashamed of me.”

‘Likewise,’ Drama wrote with a stern look.

“You really wanna take me back?”

Drama shook her head. ‘I don’t want you unhappy here. But I won’t let you hurt my friends.’ 

They sat together in silence for a while until Drama turned a little, reaching out without touching. Her hand hovered near Julie’s belly, waiting for permission. Julie put their hands together and pressed them onto the baby, looking up into Drama’s eyes with tears in her own. “I have no idea what I’m doing.” Drama pulled her into a hug and held on tight. “I can’t call this baby a mistake. That’s not fair. But I don’t know how to be a mom. I don’t even know how to keep myself out of trouble, and now I fucked up everything with you, and I can’t fix any of it. This kid is gonna hate me.”

Her big sister rocked her a little and rubbed her back. When she was feeling a little more stable, Drama picked up the notepad again. ‘We can do this together if you let me.’

“What about Faith?” Julie looked worried and guilty all at the same time.

Drama sighed. Her lips formed a thin line. ‘You can’t ever behave like this again. No fuckups. No con jobs. You never come between me and her again. I will choose her every time. Understand?’

“Got it.”

‘You owe everyone else out there an apology. I can’t fix that for you.’

Julie got up off the bed, let go of her sister, and walked out to face the others in the dining room. They were happily eating now that the tension had eased off. Drama watched from the hallway as Julie did her best to talk to them, to say sorry for her words and her actions. Petra was the only one who wouldn’t look at her. Which suddenly reminded Drama of the box she had set down in the entry when she came in earlier in the evening. She brushed past her sister and picked the box up, walking it back to where Petra sat at the table.

There was a note tied to the ribbon on the top of the box. Petra flipped it open to look at it. “Can I read this out loud?” she asked. Drama nodded. “Um… I’m sorry for using ASL instead of English,” she read softly. She looked up guiltily at Drama, who urged her to go on. “And I’m sorry for being an asshole. You were absolutely right, and I heard everything you said.” Petra felt like crying again, but Drama was still pointing at her to open the box, which she did. She pulled out a brand new pair of boxing gloves, extra small, and her face lit up with happiness. “Well that’s the coolest apology ever.”

Willow watched Drama sign. “She says you’ve got potential. You have a good fighting stance.”

“And we’re encouraging this?” Faith lifted her eyebrows at her friend. But she turned just a fraction to make eye contact with Drama, and her look spoke volumes. This was for her as much as it was for Petra.

Drew cleared his throat and swirled the wine in his glass. “So what’s the plan with Estella Havisham?”

“I am literally the only person in the room who got that one,” Tara laughed at him.

“Hey,” Willow argued, “I’ve read plenty of Dickens.”

‘Me, too,’ Drama signed.

“I thought Oliver Twist was funnier,” Faith shrugged.

“Fucking old people,” Petra swore. “Can we get back to the point? Which I assume was fixing Julie’s messed up life?”

“Does this mean you can agree to clean up your act?” Willow eyed Julie suspiciously.

“I can try,” she mumbled.

“No,” Willow leaned forward, “this is a binary issue. Zero or one only.”

“Geek translate?” Faith squinted at Drama.

‘She means yes or no,’ she signed. And when Faith understood her perfectly, she felt like jumping out of her chair to hug her.

“We’re walking a pretty delicate line here,” Willow said. “Each one of us has a past that could catch up with us at a moment’s notice, so we play by the rules to keep each other safe. No accidents, no slipups. Saying sorry afterward isn’t an option.” She sighed and looked at Drama. “We probably should have had this discussion before we left the cabin.”

Drama nodded at her. ‘That’s my fault,’ she signed. ‘I rushed to get her out of there.’

“You were scared,” Willow shrugged. “And I know you want Julie to be safe. But this is going to take a lot of work to hide, and I need to know she won’t create more problems once I tabula rasa her old life.” Willow looked back at Julie. “The only way this works is if you drop the old habits and start fresh. You run one more con once I rebuild everything, and you’ll break the whole damn thing. I can’t undo paper records, and those will be the thing that connects you to all of this crap if anyone goes digging.”

Julie took a long drink of water. “You can do that?” she finally said. “Make it all disappear?”

Willow glanced at Drama. “Not everything, exactly, unless I recreate you entirely. But that’s a new name and a completely new location outside of here. We’d have to relocate you where no one could ever connect you to anything you’ve ever touched.” Drama tensed up across the table from her sister, a fresh panic welling up in her gut. “Even for me, that could take several days. It’s really big.”

‘No,’ Drama signed. ‘We can’t do that.’ She stood up and started pacing around the dining room.

Tara hopped out of her chair and vanished to the bedroom, coming back after a brief absence with something in her hand. She handed it over to Drama quietly. It was a Rubik’s cube. “Can you solve this for me please?” Drama looked at the plastic cube in her hand and sat down, moving it slowly. Tara reached out and put a hand on Willow’s shoulder. “I don’t think putting Julie into witness protection is the best idea, and we need a solution that works on a short timescale with that baby coming in a few weeks.”

Willow leaned around Tara’s body and saw Drama quietly working on the puzzle. There was no stress in her face or her posture. She was so focused on solving the problem in her hands that she had let go of the panic entirely. Willow smiled up at her girlfriend. “Have I told you how brilliant you are?”

“Never enough,” Tara smiled back at her. 

“So then,” Willow went on, “we just scrub all trails that lead to the old Julie so that new Julie gets the fresh start she needs.” She glanced at the girl across from her. “I do have to change your social security number, though.”

Julie sighed heavily. She looked at Drama, who had just finished solving the Rubik’s cube. Tara took the toy out of her hand and gave it to Willow, asking her to mess it up again, just in case they needed it. “Okay,” Julie breathed. “It’s almost New Year’s anyway.”

Tara sat at the kitchen table and let Drew rub the tension out of her shoulders while the others discussed their plans for fixing Julie’s life. “Were things really so bad when it was just you and me?”

“Wow, you have had a bad evening, haven’t you,” he said in a low voice. “And yes, your life was sort of shitty before Willow moved in. Need I remind you of the downstairs tub?”

“Point taken. But still,” she let her head fall onto her folded arms on the table, “this has been a rough couple of weeks.” 

She sighed as he sat down next to her, picking up his wine glass again. “You should keep the girl here tonight.” She started to say something, lifting her head suddenly, but Drew stopped her. “I’m serious. I know those three have been through a lot, and so have you and Will, but you’re not connected to it in the same way.”

“Did you hear what came out of her mouth?” Tara whispered loudly. She was outraged. “I don’t want that hatred in my house. And just because she apologized doesn’t mean anything in her has changed. No. Not here.”

Drew sat back and waited for her to breathe again. “And how is Drama supposed to get the space to think clearly about how she wants to handle things when she has all of that conflict around her twenty four hours a day? Faith seems fine.” He lifted his eyebrows. “She’s edgy. I like her. And I don’t see her being manipulative and evil.”

“You’re pretty perceptive,” Tara shrugged. “Those two are really good together. I think they need each other, especially after everything they’ve just gone through.” She looked at him sternly. “There’s a lot more I can’t really mention, because it would be rude of me…”

“Jesus, Tara,” Drew rolled his eyes. “I’m not new at this.” He reached for the bottle and refilled both of their glasses. “How many times did you help me work through my own panic attacks? She looks exactly the way I used to feel before my mother died. I could probably guess the details in under twenty minutes. Which also supports my original recommendation to keep the kid here.”

Tara sighed through her nose with a heavy scowl. “I thought you were supposed to be on my side?”

“I thought you were Drama’s friend.”

“That was low, Malone.” But she still smiled at him. “It is a damn good thing you’re dating a whole vineyard.” 

Julie sat on the edge of the bed in the upstairs room which overlooked the front of the house. It had originally been Willow’s, but she had long since abandoned all but the closet in favor of the master bedroom downstairs with Tara. She showed her where the bathroom was and set her up with clean towels and sheets. “I kind of think this room might be haunted, but in a good way,” Willow said with a bright look just as Drama poked her head around the door. She had a brush in her hand, and she looked at Willow, asking if she could have a moment. Willow walked out with a slight touch to Drama’s arm, hoping it was comforting.

“You weren’t kidding about getting rid of me,” Julie looked out the large window. 

Drama looked at her with a frown. She hadn’t brought any paper upstairs. She sat down on the bed behind her sister, pulled the hair tie out of the ponytail, and started brushing her long hair slowly. They had done this as kids at night before bed. Julie had always had longer hair, and Drama would brush it and braid it, taking her time to soothe the younger girl. So she tried to bring that memory back, since both of them needed it a little. Her hands felt a bit clumsy braiding Julie’s long, blonde hair. It reached halfway down her back by the time she was done.

Julie turned and looked at her with sad eyes. “I promise I’ll behave myself. Tara kind of scares me a little anyway.” Drama attempted a smile, then leaned closer and gave her sister a hug. 

Faith hung by the front door next to Willow. “So.”

“Yup,” Willow said back.

“Thanks.”

“Sure.”

‘You two make me sound wordy,’ Drama signed as she walked toward them. Willow laughed at her. ‘I’ll keep my phone on if she needs anything,’ she said. ‘But please just text this time. Don’t actually call.’

“Figured that out the hard way,” Willow blushed. She reached out and gave Drama a very big hug. “You were sort of awesome tonight. Very big sisterly.”

“I will still kick her ass if you say the word,” Tara said from behind both of them.

‘Thank you,’ Drama signed to her.

‘You’re welcome,’ Tara signed back with a big smile. Drama looked at her with wide eyes, then turned and smiled at Willow, who was obviously quite pleased at Tara’s progress already.

Faith walked them out with her fingers laced between Drama’s. She didn’t want to have to let go, but they each had to drive and couldn’t reasonably leave either of their vehicles at Tara’s house. They stared into each other’s eyes on the sidewalk outside of the picket fence around the front yard. “So… maybe we should make a plan for tomorrow?” Faith suggested.

No, Drama shook her head. She pulled them closer, lacing her other hand with Faith’s. “Tonight,” she said quietly. Faith couldn’t help but smile.


	22. Chapter 22

Faith was waiting at the door when Drama hit the top of the stairs. Apparently her motorcycle was a tad faster than Drama’s car. They grinned at each other, and the door opened to the face of the eager dog they both knew would be there. Drama reached around and grabbed a leash from the hook inside, but Faith took it from her and attached it to his collar. She put her hand back in Drama’s and lead them out the door and into the night together. They walked quietly for a little while when Drama halted very suddenly. Even Moose stopped to see what was wrong. Faith looked up at her with concern, but she waited. It wasn’t that late, but the sidewalk was empty apart from them. 

Drama pointed at Faith, then lifted her finger to shush Faith’s lips, telling her not to speak. “You be me.”

Faith lowered one eyebrow and opened her mouth to say something, but then she stopped. And she got it. She pointed at Drama’s chest with a question in her eyes.

And Drama beamed back at her, nodding. “I’m you.” Her voice wasn’t loud, but it wasn’t a whisper anymore. And it sounded amazing. Once she saw that Faith understood what she wanted, she held out her hand in a very different way. “Shake,” she said softly. Faith took it, and Drama shook it like they were meeting for the first time. She let go and signed, ‘It’s nice to meet you.’

Faith gave her a funny look.

So Drama did it again. “Nice to meet you,” she said out loud, signing as well. She pointed at Faith and tried to pick up her hands, getting her to use the sign language she had just shown her.

Faith gave her a quiet, ‘oh,’ look, then did her best. It won her a big smile from her girlfriend.

They crossed the street to the coffee shop Drama frequented. It had a side window where she could order without having to leave Moose alone outside. There was a skinny guy with curly brown hair, a pale Seattle complexion, and chunky glasses waiting there, and he smiled at them as they walked up. ‘Hi, Jeremy,’ Drama signed with a big smile.

‘Hey, Drama,’ he signed back. Faith realized that he had hearing aids in both ears. ‘Is this her?’ he asked.

‘This is my girlfriend, Faith.’ Drama pointed to her.

‘Wow.’ He smiled at her. ‘She’s definitely cuter up close.’ He stuck his hand out the window, taking Faith’s and shaking it firmly. 

Drama nudged Faith in the ribs just a little. Faith let go of his hand and signed, ‘Nice to meet you,’ as well as she could.

And it was clearly convincing enough, because Jeremy immediately started signing back to her. Drama had to slow him down and explain that Faith was new at this, to take it easy on her. She ordered them a couple of americanos and leaned against the glass to wait, looking down into Faith’s face.

Faith was shaking her hands in the air, clearly a little stressed. She reached over and started to pat around Drama’s jeans, feeling in her pockets, which made her giggle lightly from the tickling. Finding what she wanted, Faith pulled out the pad of sticky notes and the pencil. She wrote, ‘This is a little scary,’ on the top one.

Drama almost choked on her own reaction. She didn’t want Faith scared, but she did want her to see things a little differently. She had thought it might help. She leaned down, brushing her lips against Faith’s ear. “I’ve got you,” she whispered.

Faith tried to sign, ‘I know.’ And it was completely wrong, but Drama understood her anyway. She helped her hold her hand differently, repeating what she had tried to say. 

Jeremy set the drinks down and smiled at the couple. ‘She’s doing pretty good.’

Drama paid him and said thank you, promising to bring Faith back another time. They walked off together very slowly, letting Moose sniff while they sipped their coffee. It was a clear night for the first time in a while, and it was nice to enjoy a simple moment outside. December was rarely so forgiving.

A thousand things crossed Faith’s mind that she wanted to say, and they piled up in her chest uncomfortably. She tried breathing to calm things down inside of her, and she knew right then that this must be how Andromeda felt all of the time, what she had always felt when they were alone together over the years, when they looked at each other in those moments when Faith could say anything she wanted. She glanced left and saw a reassuring smile waiting there for her. It really was a good idea for her to be quiet for once. 

They walked through the uncharacteristically still neighborhood, taking their time not saying anything, until they found themselves at the front door again, and Drama’s key was in the lock. Before she opened the door, she put her finger up to Faith’s lips again, asking if she could be okay staying quiet for a while longer, if this was too much. Faith tried to smile back. She could do this. The apartment was warm and comforting, but without her voice to fill the space it felt different, more like Andromeda. She walked around the same place she had spent so much time in, seeing it differently. It wasn’t quite like she had once thought. It was full of something quiet and slow, and it made her feel more full than she thought possible.

“Are you okay?” Andromeda said from close behind her. 

The look on Drama’s face was so full of worry when Faith turned to see her that she opened her mouth for a brief second, and then she closed it with a sparkle in her eyes and nodded, yes. She was perfectly fine. It was exactly what Drama would have done. She picked up her girlfriend’s hand and lead them to the couch, sitting them down to face each other. Faith crossed her legs and leaned sideways, just staring at Andromeda, waiting patiently for her. She could see how hard this was for her, too. 

Even though talking was getting easier, it still felt foreign and strange, and she struggled against it. The air moving through her throat felt hot and dry, and it took a real conscious effort to keep her hands from moving with all the thoughts running through her. Faith’s voice wasn’t there to take over, to fill in the gaps, and she’d grown so used to it that its absence was almost painful. “I miss your voice,” she finally said.

Faith’s face relaxed in relief, and a light huff escaped her lips. She lifted her hand to Andromeda’s lips, to the front of her neck, then signed to her, ‘beautiful.’ She didn’t know how else to tell her how she felt about hearing her voice, but it simply took her breath away to hear her talk.

Drama’s mouth lifted in a hesitant smile. She glanced toward the counter where her notepad rested, and she moved to stand up, when Faith’s arm was on her, stopping her, and she was shaking her head, no. No paper, no writing. Just this. And her hand was there again, at the edge of Andromeda’s mouth, asking her to talk, to say what was on her mind. There was such a strain in her eyes that she had to look away, and Faith sighed heavily, grabbing her own hair with both hands and pulling it back, tugging at it in exactly the same way Drama did when she was frustrated. Andromeda watched her, and it made her smile. She ran her own hands through her hair, pulling it back slowly with an exaggerated motion, making a bit of a show of it since it was really too short to move in the same way Faith’s hair did. But it had the desired effect, and Faith smiled enough that she had to hold back a laugh for fear that she’d make some sound. She pointed at her, asking with her eyes if that’s what she really looked like.

“You do it all the time,” Andromeda said with a more relaxed voice. Faith leaned her chin into her hand, resting her elbow on her knee. “You… arch your back… a little,” Drama blushed as she went on, “when you catch me looking at you. At work.” She turned sideways on the couch, making the same movement with her own body, watching Faith the whole time.

Faith stared on in fascination with her whole body as she watched the girl next to her move in the same way she did, trying to look more like her, less like her normally shy self. She slipped one of her fingers in her mouth and bit on the fingertip, keeping her eyes locked on Andromeda. 

And Drama wouldn’t look away. She watched Faith’s mouth. “You would say that’s insanely sexy.” She whispered the words, terrified, but she knew she was right. She felt Faith inhale quickly, and then she was up and moving, and Drama had to turn to figure out where she was going. She stood up to follow her away from the couch, but Faith was way ahead of her, fishing through her workout gear piled behind the heavy bag hanging in the corner. “What is it?” Drama said, but her voice wasn’t quite loud enough.

Faith yanked out the smaller plyo box she had seen Drama use in the mornings. She set it close to the wall, then turned suddenly and ran off to the bedroom, leaving Drama completely confused and standing alone next to the punching bag. She could hear her rifling through the other room, looking for something. She emerged a minute later, still in her jeans but now wearing one of Andromeda’s favorite tank tops. She pushed Drama back toward the wall, moving her behind the box until Drama almost stopped her from her uncertainty. “I don’t get it,” she said loud enough for Faith to hear her. 

But Faith just smiled back, biting her lip. She stepped up onto the box, slammed Drama’s shoulders back into the wall, and kissed her so forcefully that Drama’s whole body contracted and pushed back into Faith, struggling against her. Faith pressed harder, her hands gripping Drama’s wrists one at a time, pulling them higher on the wall, and she was standing so much taller on the box that Andromeda couldn’t use her power as effectively. And that’s when she finally got it. Faith felt the smile on Andromeda’s face, felt her arms relax to let her press her into the wall. She lifted her knee up between Drama’s legs, pushing and grinding into her in exactly the same way Drama had done to her before. They breathed against each other through the intense kiss until Faith broke away for a second to catch her breath. Andromeda’s chest was shuddering against Faith’s. “Oh, wow.” It was the only thing she could think to say. 

Faith let go of Andromeda’s wrists and gripped her hips, pulling Drama’s body higher onto her thigh with so much force that she actually cried out with a moan that chilled Faith right down to her spine. She stopped and pulled back, terrified that she’d gone too far.

“Oh, no, please come back!” Drama wrapped her arms desperately around Faith’s back, pulling her in powerfully. Faith dove in, resting her lips teasingly against the spot on Drama’s neck, just below her left ear, which was exactly the right thing to encourage Andromeda to rock her hips against Faith’s thigh. Drama moaned again, this time into Faith’s shoulder since she was standing so high over her. And it briefly crossed her mind that this must be how Faith felt with their height difference, and fuck, it was kind of amazing. 

Faith drove into her a little harder, feeling bolder by the sounds coming out of her girlfriend’s mouth. She’d never heard anything like it, and it made her feel a little crazy and definitely needy for more. Andromeda had always been quiet and reserved. There were so many moments when Faith had to watch her face to have any idea what she was feeling. But now, knowing she could, knowing that Faith wanted to hear her, everything came out all at once, and it had just as much of an effect on Andromeda as it did on Faith. Her hands reached under the tank top and gripped Faith’s ribs hard, digging into her skin, pulling and clawing at her, like she couldn’t breathe without Faith riding up against her. 

Andromeda rolled her hips harder this time, trying desperately to relieve the buildup of tension and heat in her body. The pressure of everything that was Faith’s body against hers only made it worse, and the wall behind her wasn’t helping enough. The ache down low was only better in brief moments when Faith would lift her leg just a little, but she needed it back in between. She tried to tell her, but the only things that could make it out of her mouth were incoherent words like, “just,” and, “could you,” and she panicked a little at the thought that she couldn’t say the right thing. She rolled her hips once more for the pressure that felt so, so good, but once turned into twice and three times and four, and her hands were on Faith’s waist, steering her to crash into her body with everything she had. Andromeda needed her mouth, needed to kiss her to keep breathing, and when she couldn’t figure out how to get to her, she let out the absolute loudest “Fuck!” Faith could imagine getting past those lips. She reached down and pressed their mouths together. Drama’s back arched and she dug her fingers painfully into Faith’s skin, rolling and pulling at her as her body rode Faith’s leg over and over until she had to gasp to fill her lungs back up. 

Her knees let go a little too quickly, and Faith had to press her hips back into the wall with a quiet giggle to keep them both upright. Drama’s head hit the wall and she looked up at the ceiling, completely unable to focus her eyes on anything. “Am I allowed to talk yet?” Faith dotted small kisses along the edge of where her hair drifted past her ears in messy blonde strands.

Andromeda tried to say yes, but she couldn’t seem to catch her breath. She laughed a little as Faith kissed her neck. “Yeah,” she panted.

“Good.” Faith’s lips teased her skin. “Because I don’t know the sign language for, ‘girl, that was fucking hot’.” Drama felt the floor under her feet again, and she pushed back up to stand, running her hands up Faith’s back under the shirt. She pulled her tight to her chest, then lifted her down and to the side of the box she’d been standing on. “I thought I got to be the tall one for a minute?” Faith complained playfully.

Drama smiled broadly and ran the fingers of one hand along the front edge of the tank top opening around her shoulder. It looked good on her. “You can be tall in bed.” She pushed them away from the wall and through the living room until they were inside the bedroom, but then Faith turned and stopped her with a serious look. Drama gazed down at her, breathing hard, wanting her with everything in her body. She felt desperate, but the look on Faith’s face slowed her down. “Tell me,” she said softly.

“If this…” Faith kept herself close to Andromeda, kept their faces lightly brushing against each other, their hands still gently holding and moving on skin, under the edges of clothing. “I can’t…” she tried again, but the pull of the girl touching her was almost impossible to overcome. “Sometimes you make words really hard,” she said awkwardly. “I can’t do this.” Her words were like ice water in Drama’s face. She inhaled sharply and took a step back, putting space between them. “No, hang on,” Faith corrected herself, reaching out to take Andromeda’s hand with her own. “I just can’t have makeup sex with you without apologizing.”

Andromeda let out a single laugh, and she was flooded with relief. She put a hand up to her face and let out a sigh. “I thought…” 

“I’m sorry.” The words burst out of Faith’s mouth. “I didn’t handle things well with your sister, and I blew up at you at work, and I’m pretty sure we’re both gonna regret that, and I haven’t been right about any of this since we were at the cabin, and when I watched Tara holding you and fixing you I just knew I couldn’t give you the same thing.” She took a short breath, realizing that she was clenching her free hand into a fist. “I’ve spent so long…” her breath caught in her throat, “wanting you and needing you and loving you, terrified that you couldn’t love me back.” She looked down at the floor, feeling overcome with emotion. “I wanted to be something better for you, and I wasn’t.”

Andromeda tilted her head sideways and stared at Faith’s face, pulling her chin up with a gentle finger. She smiled softly. “That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard you say.” Faith frowned at her, but Drama shook her head. “Shut the fuck up, Lehane.” And that got her to laugh, even if a couple of tears fell from her eyes at the same time. She pushed them both toward the bed, and they sat down facing each other.

“I’m not really used to having a conversation with you like this,” Faith said. 

“I can stop,” Drama suggested.

“No. Please don’t.”

She smiled at Faith. She wasn’t used to this either. “Tara helped.” She played with the fingers of Faith’s hand in her grip. “I got lost there.”

Faith shrugged. “I didn’t know what to do, how to do any of that for you like she did.”

Drama sat up straighter and took her hand away. She signed while she spoke so that she could express herself better. Her hands were still so connected to speaking for her that she wasn’t sure what words to use without them. “You figured out how to hold my hand, how to let me hold you. I didn’t know any of that. It was all you. How many times were you there, waiting for me, breathing with me? Years, Faith.” She rubbed her face I frustration at herself, at how hard this was. “You regret one moment when you gave me a hundred.”

Smiling, Faith crawled closer, working her way into Andromeda’s lap, wrapping her legs around her. She stretched her arms around Drama’s neck and rested their foreheads together. “Does that mean you accept my apology?”

Drama nodded. “You?”

“I’m still thinking about it, actually.” She moved just enough to kiss the side of Andromeda’s mouth, and the girl turned and kissed her back passionately. “I liked that apology in the living room.”

“That’s what you call that?” Drama pushed forward, dropping Faith onto her back on the bed and settling in on top of her.

“It was actually extremely loud.” Faith smiled up at her, immensely happy.

Drama glared down at her. “Loud or quiet? Make up your damn mind.”

Faith almost answered her, but something entirely unexpected came out of her mouth instead. “Move in with me?” She froze in a panic when she realized what she had said. 

Drama pushed herself up onto her arms and looked down at the woman below her. She opened her mouth to say something, but there were no words waiting to come out. She blinked to make sure what she was seeing was real.

“I kind of… meant to bring that up a little… differently.”

“Okay,” Drama breathed.

Faith brushed her girlfriend’s hair back. “I guess I thought, what with everything happening, and Julie having the baby so soon, this place is just not big enough, but I know it’s so early, and we still have-”

But Drama’s finger was on her lips, shushing her easily. “I said okay.”

“Okay, okay?” Faith asked stupidly.

“Yes, I will move in with you, okay. Okay?” Andromeda’s smile was like magic, filling Faith up with unexpected happiness and warmth.

“I’m beginning to think you’re madly in love with me, Andromeda.”

“Maybe a little.” She leaned back in and kissed Faith with everything she had. “I’ve waited two years to be here, to kiss you like this, to say out loud that I love you. Why should I wait more?”

Faith was glowing at her. “You’ll really move in with me? Like, laundry on Tuesday nights and taking out the trash and being together even when we’re mad at each other?”

Drama nudged her face over and kissed along the side of her cheek, down her jawline. “I’m good at washing dishes.”

Faith could feel Andromeda’s hand sweeping the bottom of her tank top up a little higher, making space for her to slip lower, to kiss the exposed skin of her stomach. “I’ve never figured out…” she gasped a little at Drama’s teeth pulling at the edge of her bra, “how to fold a fitted sheet.”

“Sometimes,” she reached behind Faith’s back and unfastened her bra, letting her pull it and the shirt over her head and away, “I eat popcorn and ice cream for dinner.”

Faith arched her back at the sensation of Andromeda’s mouth on her nipple. “That’s clearly a lie,” she managed between contended sighs. “There’s no kale in ice cream.” She happily played with the hair at the back of Drama’s head. “Please don’t stop,” she whispered. And Drama shook her head slightly, kissing just a little harder. “No, I mean don’t stop talking,” Faith said again. “I… I like the sound of you.”

“Um…” Drama had to think for a minute. She wasn’t used to saying so much all at once, and all of the things that were usually pent up in her had vanished without warning. “I don’t really like chocolate ice cream.”

“What did you say?” Faith sat up a few inches. She looked horrified. 

And Drama wanted to explain, but Faith’s reaction hit her so suddenly that she felt like she couldn’t say another word out loud. She rolled to the side and looked up at her girlfriend in a bit of a panic. ‘I’m not used to this. It just came out,’ she signed.

Faith reached out and took her hand, stopping her from signing anything else. “Okay, first of all, take a breath. You know how I feel about chocolate ice cream. You cannot expect me to react well to that.” She was smiling as Drama recovered a little. “Second, I like to joke because of how you smile when I do it. Don’t overreact.” And at that, Drama blushed at her. “Third,” Faith went on, and she worked on unbuttoning Andromeda’s shirt, “I have seen you eat chocolate ice cream, so I know you’re lying again.”

“I like strawberry better,” she said as Faith pulled her shirt over her shoulders. “Chocolate is too sweet.”

“Oh, but I know better.” Faith nuzzled her neck. “You definitely like sweet things.”

Andromeda felt herself being swept away by just how beautiful and soft and amazing Faith was, and she couldn’t help the smile that started on her face and worked its way through her entire body. “Just you,” she whispered back.

____________________

Tara took another sip of wine, her cheeks starting to pink from the heat and the alcohol. She watched Drew pull another pan of potatoes out of the oven and set them on a rack on the old kitchen table. “Are you sure we have enough food?” she asked in mock seriousness. The table was covered with three types of potatoes, ham, roast beef, four kinds of roasted vegetables, and three pies. 

“I’ve got the salad!” called Scotty as he came in from the dining room. He was still wearing his scarf and coat. He looked for a spot to put the huge salad bowl. 

Tara rescued him and whisked it away to a side counter. “Did you get a haircut?”

“Do I look okay?”

He took off the coat and Tara noticed how nicely dressed he was. This was the guy who was usually in a Star Wars t-shirt when he wasn’t in the office, but tonight he had chosen a very tasteful dark blue button down chino shirt and a Merlot colored tie. Tara swung around Drew’s full hands and stepped in front of Scotty, adjusting the tie and collar of the shirt. “Petra said you might be nervous.” She looked kindly at him, noticing for the first time how innocent he appeared. “You look great. Don’t forget to breathe. Ask her about herself, but don’t focus on the baby.”

“Girls love to hear that their hair looks nice,” Drew added from where he was chopping fresh herbs. “Tara always gets this little googly-eyed thing going on when I tell her she’s having a good hair day.” Tara glared at him. “What? You do have great hair, sugar.” He wandered closer, kissing her forehead. He glanced at Scotty, and his face went a little pale. “Tare, sweetie, can you manage in here while I fix him?”

Tara looked suddenly relieved. “Yup. The wine is open, so I’m good.” She watched Drew whisk Scotty off to the master bathroom for a quick grooming session.

“Merry Christmas!” Pan called from the dining room. Tara waved her in, but there was nowhere for her to put the cupcakes in her arms. “What in the hell happened in here?”

“Drew has an audience, so he’s been cooking at like Mach ten.” She took the cupcakes and stuffed them onto a side table which was covered in everything that should be on the table. “Did you remember to bring me some wrapping paper?”

“Petra’s getting it out of the car.” Pan picked up a wineglass and poured some red for herself. “What’s it for? I thought you said no presents.”

“Right.” Tara walked to where Pan was leaning and refilled her own glass. “But I’ve been knitting for the baby. So that doesn’t count.”

Pan grinned at her. “Oh, I get it. You’re getting bit by the baby bug.”

“What?” Tara’s face blanched.

“Does Willow want kids, too?”

“I don’t-” Tara suddenly felt a need to drain her wineglass, but she forced herself to take a slow sip. “We haven’t really gotten that far just yet,” she said. “Wait, did she say something to you?”

“Oh, there’s Drama. Hi!” She waved and took off, leaving Tara bewildered in the kitchen. 

Drew darted back in and peeked into the oven, sighing in relief. He glanced back at Tara to ask her for an oven mitt, but she looked about ready to puke. “Jesus, girl, are you okay?”

Drama handed the coats from herself, Julie, and Faith over to Willow, who was stacking them on the bed in the master bedroom. She brushed her hair back and signed, ‘thank you,’ to her. ‘Can I do anything?’

Willow saw Scotty moving awkwardly through the living room toward them. “Actually, yes,” she said hurriedly. “Can you help with ice from the freezer in the basement?” She grabbed Drama’s arm and yanked her through the kitchen and down the stairs.

“Julie?” Scotty cleared his throat behind her. She turned and smiled warmly at him. “You might not remember-”

“Hi, Scotty,” she said quickly. She could see him light up. 

“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked. He was trying so hard not to sweat that he didn’t know how to move. Drew had given him a few things to practice saying, but they were all getting jumbled in his head now that he was looking at her. She had Drama’s green eyes and blonde hair, and their faces looked amazingly similar, but this girl in front of him was alive with a completely different kind of energy, and he didn’t want to tear his eyes away from her. “You are so beautiful,” he said without thinking.

She giggled and slipped her hand through his arm, pulling him toward the couch. “You’re kinda perfect, yourself.”

Faith leaned in the doorway to the kitchen, watching Scotty work his geeky magic. “Maybe he’s less of a dork than I thought,” she said quietly to Petra. 

“He has not shut up about her all week. I thought Claude would actually strangle him. And I might not have stopped her.” They watched him say something that made Julie laugh. “What does she see in him?”

“Does it matter?” Faith looked at the younger girl next to her. “He’s sweet, he’s smart, he’s employed.”

“He’s a geek.”

“Look who’s talking.” Drew pushed Petra’s shoulder from behind. “Did he tell her she has nice hair?” He leaned over Petra’s head easily, since she was so short, and stared out at them. “You know, she is really cute. He’s got good taste.”

“You should see her sister.” Faith winked at him.

“Too butch for me.” Drew stood up straight. “Speaking of which,” he checked his watch, “where’s my boy toy?”

Tara leaned in between Pan and Faith to see how Scotty was doing. “Tyler sent you a text while you were fixing Scott’s hair. He had to go back for the wine. I’m sure he’ll be here pretty quick. It’s Christmas. There’s no traffic.” She pulled Faith’s hair back so she could get a better view. “Did she just play with the collar of his shirt? And what kind of conditioner do you use, Faith? Your hair feels amazing.”

Faith felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see Drama standing behind her with a worried look. She signed to Willow and pointed at Faith, asking her to say something. 

Willow stood on her toes to see past Drew and shot a worried look at Faith. “Uh, she said she wants to know why everyone is stuffed together in the kitchen entryway.”

“Have I told you how much I like that shirt on you?” Faith wrapped her arms around Drama’s neck, pushing her backwards to the kitchen table.

“I think I hear someone at the door.” Tara scooted off in a flash. 

“Is something burning?” Drew snuck back into the kitchen to check the oven. 

“Did you want me to wrap something for you, Tara?” Pan took off after the blonde through the living room. 

Drama pulled Faith away and leaned over to look into the living room. When she caught sight of her sister on the couch next to Scott she shot an angry glare at Faith. ‘Did you know about this?’ she signed. 

“Chill out, mama bear.” Faith pulled her back to the table, giving her a firm look. “It’s Christmas. Scotty’s a good guy.” Drama kept her scowl firmly in place. “Seriously?” Faith nudged her. “What’s he gonna do, get her pregnant?”

Drama laughed before she could help herself. She finally shrugged and leaned her forehead against Faith’s. She sighed and shook her head slowly, smiling at the woman in her arms. She had to admit, things felt pretty good. 

Pan sat down at the dining room table next to Willow while they waited for Drew to finish the last trimmings on the food for dinner. “So,” she said, “Tara says she’s thinking about you two raising a family?”

“What?” Willow’s head whipped around so fast she nearly fell out of her chair. 

“I guess all that knitting really got her thinking.” Pan smiled wickedly, pleased with herself for riling things up a little.

Willow looked back at the kitchen and moved side to side to see where Tara was. She swallowed hard, feeling like the room had increased in temperature by twenty degrees. “Is the fireplace on too high?”

____________________

Tyler dragged Drew by the hand out the door and down the steps. He waved back at Tara, who was still standing in the doorway. “Merry Christmas!” he called out. She could see them already pulling each other close, and she wondered how poorly Drew would be able to concentrate on his way home.

She turned around and hugged Pan and Petra before they ran out to their car. It was starting to rain, and it was cold outside after being in the very warm house all evening. “This was awesome.” Petra glowed up at her. “You’re like the best sister I never had.”

“She’s got a good point,” Faith said from the entryway behind them. Tara stepped up and hugged her before she was ready. Faith’s arms pulled her close and hugged her back. “Don’t make my girlfriend jealous. She’s solid muscle. It could get ugly.”

Tara laughed and wrinkled her nose back. Drama put her hand over Faith’s face and pushed her away, making room to hug Tara herself. She signed and smiled at her. Willow was standing close by. “She just said she’s never really cared for the holidays, but you might have changed her mind this time. Oh,” Willow chuckled, “and that Faith is full of shit, so just ignore her.”

“Bitch,” Faith mumbled with wide eyes from the steps, but she was smiling.

Drama let go of Tara and hugged Willow. She said thank you with her eyes and left it at that. She followed Faith down the steps, taking her hand as they cruised toward the car. 

“They’re kinda cute together.” Tara nudged Willow’s shoulder. “Not as cute as we are, of course…”

“Not possible,” Willow said with pursed lips. “We’re cuter than kittens.”

Scotty was holding Julie’s hand as they stood next to the kitchen table. “Did you have a nice time tonight?” he asked hesitantly.

“I did.” She played with the hand holding hers. “You know, you’re really sweet, Scotty, but I’m kind of a handful.”

“No you’re not.” He frowned at her, worried he had said something wrong. “You’re great.” He took a deep breath and braced himself. “I really like you.”

She looked up at him with a coy smile. “I’m gonna have a baby in a few weeks. I don’t think that’s going to feel quite so romantic.” She looked up into his blue eyes and saw how sad he looked. “I mean, doesn’t that scare you a little?”

He shrugged and looked down at her hand holding onto his. “It’s scarier to think you might say no to going out on a date tomorrow night.” He chanced a look at her, and he saw her smiling and blushing. “Have you ever ridden the carousel downtown? We could get hot chocolate, maybe take in the Christmas lights…” He edged closer to her. “Maybe you should take the romance and run with it.”

“What time?” She smiled back at him.


	23. Chapter 23

January 2013

Drama closed the oversized metal door behind herself and put her backpack on the floor, taking in her new surroundings. She couldn’t explain it now that she was here, but somehow this was the first time she had ever seen the inside of Faith’s apartment. Apartment, she snorted to herself. It was actually an enormous loft. She looked up at the ceiling thirty feet overhead. The entire southeast wall was windows set into three banks, maybe ten feet tall each. Moose pulled at the end of his leash and sniffed the concrete floor around where they were standing. She kept him tethered while they found their way around in the space. Nothing much prevented them from walking anywhere. Faith apparently didn’t care much for furniture or artwork. There were two leather couches, a coffee table, two lamps, and not much else. Drama opened the refrigerator. Beer, water, ketchup. Well. That would have to change.

Moose took off on his own to find a comfortable spot to lounge in. He seemed to like the cool floors. Drama followed in her own bare feet, wondering if Faith spent more time at her own tiny apartment just to feel warmer. Everything here was so stark and cold. It didn’t feel like Faith at all. She stared at the metal stairway leading to the sleeping area above the kitchen and followed the line of the support framework under the loft along the ceiling above the kitchen. She jumped and grabbed the bar and pulled herself up to look more closely at it. It would be nice to have a pullup bar handy.

“There’s a gorgeous girl hanging from my ceiling,” Faith said from below. She had come through the door without a sound. Drama looked down and dropped to the floor, landing in a crouch. “Making yourself at home?” Faith smirked. “Moose is clearly fine.” Loud snores were coming from the corner where he was stretched out beneath the windows. 

Drama stood up and picked up a guitar case from the door where Faith had set it down. She pointed upstairs with a question in her eyes.

“There’s plenty of space.” Faith glanced at her fridge. “Aw shit, you’re gonna want food. I’ll have to go to the store.”

Drama giggled at her, and the sound echoed in the empty space. She hauled her things up the steps to the loft, which was much bigger than she had expected. Part of it must extend out into the hallway between units, well past the kitchen wall. She set her things down and brushed her fingers over the low dresser along one wall. The top was smooth and black and had a handful of photos in frames resting along the back. She picked up the first one and stared into the very stoic face of Faith as a little girl, a mass of dark hair and feral eyes, holding onto what looked like a small shepherd mix dog.

“Giles-” her voice came from the top step, “my dad, he thought it would be a good idea to get me a dog one year.” Drama glanced back at her and saw her look away. “He got hit by a car like a week later, so…”

The blonde put the photo down and kept moving, feeling suddenly like she was intruding into something more personal than she had expected. ‘You never asked me to come here before,’ she signed. 

Faith leaned against the wall on the other side of the space and looked so small, so different than anything Drama had ever seen her be. “It’s just us here,” she said quietly. “You know I’ve been working on the ASL, it’s just, like,” she pulled her hair back nervously, “it’s a whole language. I’m not that smart.”

Drama pressed her lips together and rolled her shoulders. Her throat didn’t hurt from talking anymore, but it still felt like effort to make her mouth and her voice form words sometimes. “You look… scared,” she said. She realized she was still signing the words and felt like an idiot for it.

“Who, me?” Faith smiled, but it was forced. “Are you cold?” She realized suddenly how her home must feel to the other girl. “I don’t leave the heat on, and I’ve been gone a while.”

Drama walked around the bed to be closer, but she could see Faith tense at her approach. It confused her. “Are you afraid of me?” Her hands felt useless just hanging at her sides. There was nowhere to put them if she wasn’t signing or touching the woman in front of her, but she could see that Faith was pulling away.

“What?” Faith looked up. “No! No, I’m-” She fidgeted and wrapped herself in her own arms. “It’s just, you’re here, and…” She looked at the floor. “I didn’t think… what this would be like, with you here, seeing everything that-” She shook her head.

Drama held her hands and arms out to the side, patiently waiting, until Faith looked at her questioningly. She chanced a small smile. “You can touch me anywhere. I won’t move.” She held still and waited.

Faith watched her from her isolation and quirked her head to the side. “You know, when I said that to you I was sweaty and half naked and I think it had a better tone to it.” She reached out a tentative hand to Drama’s ribs and ran her hand under her shirt, over her warm skin, until they were standing closer. Drama held still, but her face relaxed a bit, relieved that Faith still wanted to be near her, to touch her. “How scared were you that I’d see who you are and not…” Faith’s voice trailed off. Some part of her was choking, and Drama felt so deeply that it was the same thing that had made her body tense up so many times that she almost moved, almost wrapped her arms around the woman.

“I was always terrified,” Drama said. Faith looked up into her green eyes and used her other hand to grip the edge of her jeans, holding on tight. She ducked her head under Drama’s chin and settled their bodies together, clutching and holding like she was petrified. “Breathe,” Drama said into her hair, just like Faith had done for her over and over.

“Please hold me back,” she could hear Faith say against her chest. Drama wrapped her arms protectively around her and held her with all of the strength in her body. “I’m not any good at trusting somebody.”

Drama leaned her head to the side so that Faith could look at her face. She pointed to Faith’s shoulder with one finger, then pointed back to herself. “You and me. Together,” she said softly. “That doesn’t change, even here.” Faith relaxed into her. She knew she was right, but this still felt like so much all at once. She took a strained breath. Drama looked around the room until she spotted what would have been a closet in any other type of space. This was completely open, but it was organized. She pointed at the shoes on the bottom rack.

“You can wear anything of mine you want, but you’d best not rip the shoulders out of my good shirts,” Faith warned, softening in the hug she was still refusing to let go of.

Drama shook her head, kissed Faith on the forehead, then walked over and picked up the pair of running shoes from the back of the pile. She shoved them into Faith’s arms. “We both need some air. Let’s go.”

Faith glared at her. “I’m in the middle of a crushing emotional moment, and you decide this is when we go for a run together?” 

Drama nodded. 

“It’s January. It’s like forty degrees outside.” 

Drama turned around and fished through the clothes until she found a warm sweatshirt. She tossed it at Faith’s head and walked down the stairs. 

“I couldn’t get the girlfriend who wants to binge Law and Order and eat Ben and Jerry’s?” Faith mumbled to herself.

A mile and a half later, Faith grabbed at Andromeda’s elbow to get her to slow down and walk. She breathed hard in the cold air, filling her lungs over and over. Everything felt tired and sore in her body, but there was just the hint of an endorphin rush at the edge of things that made her smile for the sweat collecting at the small of her back. “I usually only do this if I’m late for a flight,” she was finally able to say. 

But Drama was watching her, walking backwards with a little skip in her step, signing to her to breathe. And she was so full of joy at them being outside together, doing something she loved, that she could hardly contain herself. Faith beamed back at her. Part of her long hair had come loose from her ponytail, she was a sweaty disaster, and there was no way she could keep up with the pace Drama wanted to run at, but she still looked amazing, and Drama’s heart beat out of control at the sight of her. She waited until Faith looked a little more recovered, then faced forward again and encouraged her into a light jog. Her feet felt light, so much more like the spring days that were still weeks off when she could ditch the layers and run in a t-shirt and shorts. She looked left and decided to try something she had never done before. She told Faith a story out loud, outside, where anyone nearby could hear her. 

“Wilbur was my coach. At juvie. He would yell, tell me to do more pushups, more pullups, and he made me start running around the track outside once it stopped snowing. It hurt so bad. These scars,” she reached behind and held the back of her ribs, “hadn’t healed well. They burned and burned. But he made me run through it.” Her breath came easily as they crested a small hill and turned to face a beautiful view of the city laid out in front of them. Faith was breathing better, too, and listening intensely to every word. “After a couple of months I got faster, stronger. I started running on my own when I could. Wilbur said I grew four inches that year.” She smiled at the memory of him yelling at her for always wearing pants that were too short. “Everywhere I looked was razor wire and concrete, but I could be free when I ran. So I ran as much as I could, until they would force me to go inside. Sometimes I ran three times a day. It was just a muddy track, but I ran around and around until I had blisters on my feet. Then I got out, and things got a little…” She paused for a minute, thinking. “There wasn’t time to run for fun.” They kept moving, still keeping the pace slow enough that Faith wasn’t having to work too hard. “But when things got better and I had some money, I bought a pair of running shoes.”

“Where were you then?” Faith asked, trying to keep her voice steady. The running didn’t feel as hard anymore with Drama keeping her going. “Did you stay in Spokane?”

“I hate Spokane,” Drama said, and they both laughed at her words. “I hitched a ride out here.” She looked away, out over the skyline of the city as they followed it. “Really stupid.” She looked back at Faith, whose eyes said that she knew exactly how that felt, how you could be desperate enough to get in someone’s vehicle and then suddenly so full of regret that what you felt before that moment paled in comparison. “Got here in March. It was raining. It didn’t stop until July.” And they both really did laugh at that part. “The first few years here were hard. Bounced around. Jobs were… rough.”

“I can’t imagine,” Faith had to breathe between her words, “how hard it is without talking.” She looked sideways and saw the set of Andromeda’s jaw, the slightly distant look in her eye that wasn’t really focused on the pavement in front of them. But the movement of her body was still perfect, effortless and full of a lilting rhythm that was easy for them to both keep. “But you started running again out here?”

The shadowed look on Drama’s face lifted a little, and she tried to look at Faith beside her. She nodded. “Things got better when I ran. When I stop, it’s like…” But she didn’t have the words to describe it, and the thought of not running, even with her body in motion, was enough to make her heartrate pick up. She gave Faith a quick warning glance, signed to her, ‘I’ll be back,’ then took off at a sprint. 

Faith couldn’t believe her speed. It was as though they had been standing still and she suddenly launched forward and away down the road, almost out of sight before Faith realized she was running alone. A few minutes later, despite thinking about stopping, Faith felt the air behind her change. She glanced back and Drama was right there, slowing down as she came up alongside her. She looked better. “Did you just run home and back or something?” Faith asked with a smile.

Drama smiled up to her eyes. “Twice.”

It was better to hear her talking. So much of this still felt new, undiscovered, and amazingly exciting. Faith hated pushing or asking, but there was so much coming out of her now when they were alone that she was finding out things she had never known, things that she couldn’t have imagined. Her favorite color was red. She hated celery. She could name every constellation in the northern hemisphere. She had spent one entire summer hiking and camping her way down the Pacific Crest Trail alone. But it was also very clear that there was a lot she wasn’t talking about. When Faith would try to ask, Andromeda would disappear inside. She wouldn’t always answer, and it looked like she was either afraid to say what was there or she just didn’t have the words for it. But when she did tell her stories, they were rich with details in ways that her written messages had never been. They were captivating. They opened up a whole world for Faith that she hadn’t expected, where she could see things through Andromeda’s quiet gaze. When you don’t talk, people are assholes, but the world is full of everything, and she was afraid of none of it.

‘You’ve never asked, but I know you want to,’ Drama signed to her. Her eyes were just on the edge of nervous, but she was right there, not running off.

‘Asked what?’ Faith signed back, slowing them down to walk. It was too hard to watch Drama sign and keep running. She watched Drama’s eyes stay on the road. She knew the question after a minute of breathing better. “I’m not sure I wanna know,” Faith finally said.

“Why?” Drama’s voice was hesitant. She still wouldn’t make eye contact.

“It took us so long. There were nights when I cried myself to sleep over you.” Andromeda looked at her quickly, feeling a pang of guilt her chest. “Lots of nights,” Faith emphasized. 

They walked past a row of restaurants, and Drama thought about how this neighborhood was a little different, how she would have to get used to something new again. She wanted to reach for Faith’s hand as they moved down the sidewalk, but she felt like it was too much, like it would interfere with what she needed to say. 

“If I thought,” Faith went on slowly, “… if there was someone else who could have been close to you without all of that…” She walked on for a moment. “Then it just would have meant that it was me who brought that out in you, and that’s the part I could never really face.” She stopped, and Drama turned to look down into her brown eyes. “But if there wasn’t anyone else, then that makes me feel a little panicky.”

“For you? Or for me?” Drama whispered.

Faith shrugged with one shoulder. She reached out and put her hands through the pocket on the front of Andromeda’s sweatshirt, pulling them together in front of the Thai restaurant that fed her dinner more often than she thought was probably healthy. “First romances are always doomed, aren’t they?” She sighed. “And anyway, you’re way too gorgeous not to have had plenty of girls chase you. And far too amazing in bed for me to be your first.”

Drama smiled at her and let her arms stretch around Faith’s waist. She kissed her forehead. “All good points. But it’s possible…” She let her words linger in the quiet around them.

“Nope. No way,” Faith shook her head, pulled a hand out of the pocket, and grabbed onto the hood strings at Drama’s neck. “There’s simply no way that you could know how to do that thing that you did last night.” She bit her lip. “And you should do that every… single… night.”

Drama leaned forward and kissed her lips lightly. “You know there are some pretty good books about that stuff.”

“Oh, you’re way too shy to buy a book like that,” Faith smiled at her. Drama blushed in response, and Faith knew without a doubt that she was right. 

Drama pulled one hand free and pointed a thumb at the door behind them. And lunch did sound like a good idea after all that exertion. They ordered a couple of specials to go, then walked back to the building they could now call theirs, not just Faith’s. “You think Scotty is going to stay with Julie tonight?” Faith asked. Drama shot her a panicked look, but Faith ran into her shoulder playfully as she pushed their door open. “We can go back for some more boxes later if you feel like stalking him.” They stumbled around the boxes that they had brought up already once they were back inside. 

They piled a couple of boxes up near the couch and unpacked Drama’s things while they ate. She hadn’t brought a lot with her, but there just wasn’t that much to bring. There was more sport and exercise equipment than anything, apart from the boxes of books and records piled around the couch. Drama smiled in a funny way when she opened one, and she passed it over to Faith to put onto the bookshelf where she was stacking the others from the previous box.

“I still can’t believe how much you read,” Faith said. “Is that another box of books? You’re gonna make me think you’re boring if you keep this up.” But she caught Drama’s eye for just a second, and then the look was gone, and she knew this box had been passed over to her intentionally. She picked up a handful of hardback books and sorted them onto the shelves that had been mostly bare until now. Drama had a thing for PNW natural history prose, for local history books about the west or wildfires or trails and hikes, and Faith hadn’t figured out yet if there was a way to keep them organized that made sense, but she knew Drama would want them to be orderly. 

She picked up another group and looked at the titles, and she stopped short, standing there in the living room between the windows that filled the entire wall behind her and the sleeping dog in the middle of the concrete floor, and she could feel every pound of her heart in her chest. She was holding the book Drama would never have had the guts to buy, the same book that was worth laughing over an hour before when they stood on the sidewalk together after running and talking like they never had before. She glanced across the room, and Andromeda sat there quietly, barely able to keep her eyes up. Faith set the other books down and carried the one back to the couch, sitting herself down next to the blonde carefully. 

Drama let her fingers work their way through the edges of the vinyl record sleeves in the box at her feet. She could feel how Faith was breathing beside her. Willow had told her that she really should have said this to Faith a long time ago, that it wasn’t fair not to bring it up, and she knew her friend had been right. Especially with something this big. But everything between them felt big, and she’d been so tired from all the work to get this far. Avoiding one hard topic had felt fine for so long, but moving in with Faith seemed like a big enough event that she couldn’t keep this secret any longer. It would have been nice if all of this hadn’t come along with the embarrassment that she’d had to buy a book about sex in order to feel even slightly confident about being with Faith, and that made it almost impossible to look at her now, staring down at what felt like an instruction manual with extremely well-written directions.

“I don’t want us to be doomed.”

“I shouldn’t…” Faith frowned. “That wasn’t the best way to put it, I guess.” She dropped the book on the table and reached sideways, taking Drama’s hand without looking her in the eyes. “I was wrong before.” She took a long breath. “I did want to know.”

“I tried to pretend it didn’t matter.” Her words felt very shaky, like she should sign and be quiet again. The tension in her chest made it hard to sit still.

Faith turned and looked at her. “I wouldn’t change it.” She saw green eyes look back at her finally. 

Andromeda’s hair fell over her ear as she looked down at their combined hands. “I thought you’d know,” she mumbled quietly. “The night you came over and we boxed?” She looked up again through loose strands of blonde, and Faith felt everything in her respond to that face, to how delicate she looked. “I’d never kissed anyone before you.”

“Did it happen the way you thought it would?”

She sat up a little straighter and couldn’t keep the smile from her lips. “Way better.”

The look in Faith’s eyes changed, and she felt distant suddenly, like there were so many things she had to reconsider now, and that just fed the fear in Drama like lighter fluid on a fire. “If I’d known…”

“You would have pushed me away,” Drama answered for her. And they both knew that she was right. It would have been for all the right reasons, but mostly to protect her. “I wasn’t trying to lie.”

Faith leaned her head sideways until it rested on Andromeda’s shoulder. She closed her eyes and felt her warmth, the softness of her that pulled her in so effortlessly. She stayed there for a long time, just breathing, listening to Drama do the same. Eventually, Faith picked the book back up and flipped through some of the pages. “Is it a good read?”

Drama cleared her throat a little, and Faith knew she was blushing hard. “You haven’t complained.” Faith snickered just once. “Chapter nine was definitely… helpful.”

Faith pushed her sideways until she rolled back onto the pillow at the end of the couch, and then she climbed on top of her, resting her chin on Drama’s chest, still looking at the pages. “I think you should read it to me. Out loud.” 

She flipped the pages to look for the right chapter, but Drama shouted, “No!” with a laugh and grabbed the book out of her hands, tossing it behind her head and onto the floor. She grinned up into Faith’s pleased expression. She ran her hand along the side of her girlfriend’s face, and everything in her slowed down to a calm rhythm. Her right hand drifted down to Faith’s shoulder, and she traced letters on her through her shirt. M-I-N-E.

_____________________

Drama pulled up another window and squinted at the screen again. Her face was too close for it to be comfortable, but she stayed there despite how her back was cramping up. She’d been at it for several hours without a break. She kept seeing the same things. She was working in circles, and her head was starting to hurt. She didn’t know how Willow did some of the things she was capable of, and part of her didn’t want to ask for help. But help was the entire point. She needed to figure out how to cover Julie’s tracks so that the ex, Jessie, wouldn’t be able to find her. She rubbed a hand over her eyes and sat back. When she turned to look through the window from her office into the workroom, she saw Willow sitting at her desk with the same expression. 

Drama rolled her chair closer and tapped on the glass. The redhead looked up at her in surprise, then she smiled faintly. ‘You okay out there?’ Drama signed to her.

Willow shook her head and motioned for Drama to join her. It was late, and it was still a holiday week. No one else had been in the office lately except for Claude, and she had kept her distance from both of them. Drama saw that her desk was empty when she moved through the workroom to sit beside Willow.

“I’ve been at this for over an hour, and I keep seeing the same thing.”

Drama sighed at her. ‘Ditto. Wanna switch?’

Willow smiled at her in a tired way. “Sure. What are you working on?”

Drama had her pull up all the files she had created based on the old ones they were deleting. She signed while Willow typed. ‘I get that the object is to create replacement data that shadows the old information without leading someone down the road of finding where she went, but none of the randomization I’m using looks right. It all has too much predictable pattern to it, and I think that’s obvious.’

“Oh yeah,” Willow agreed with wide eyes. “Dead giveaway.” She pointed at a listing of files, times, names, content. “Computerized randomization is usually too evenly organized to look like what humans create. When we want to be random, we actually use patterns that we think look random, but they’re way off from what one of these programs will generate. Try this…” They sat together for a while and Willow showed her how to draft a better algorithm for what she was trying to accomplish. 

Halfway through, Drama slammed a palm into her forehead when she realized what she’d been doing wrong. They laughed about it, but she felt like a rookie next to Willow. ‘You’re really good at this stuff,’ she signed. 

“Faith was a little on edge today.” Willow glanced at her as they worked.

Drama sighed and sat back in the rolling office chair. ‘I told her about those two domestic violence calls on Jessie’s record. Julie had been telling the truth about that part, and I think Faith felt guilty after everything.’

“How did he not get arrested for that stuff anyway?” Willow said with a sideways glance. “White male syndrome?”

‘He’s military, he has friends.’ Drama shrugged. ‘That’s Idaho. Not shocking.’

“Well he’s out of the country for a little longer, so I think we’ll be in the clear. As long as Julie holds up her end of the deal, everything should turn out alright.” She gave Drama a slightly worried look. “I know she said she was good with a do-over, but is this something she can really stick to?”

She shrugged. ‘She was seven when I left home. I missed out on all the important stuff.’

“Yeah, but…” Willow smiled at her, “you’re probably the most solid, reliable person I’ve ever met. I keep expecting her to be like you.” She shook her head. “She’s proven me wrong more than once. You look identical, but I think that’s where it ends.”

Drama tried not to react too much. Willow had hit the head on a slightly painful nail. Especially after her outburst right before Christmas, Julie had shown everyone what she thought, and it wasn’t pretty. Drama wanted to deny that it hurt, but it had gutted her. They were so different at their core that she wasn’t sure how to salvage their relationship as sisters, but she hoped that some time outside of Idaho might help. Being raised around all of those narrow-minded views had gotten her stuck thinking that way. She thought maybe seeing some other part of the real world could help Julie somehow. 

‘She says she’ll behave herself,’ Drama signed. ‘Maybe dating Scotty will keep her out of trouble.’ She wanted to roll her eyes at the thought of those two together, but she knew Scotty meant well, and he was sweet. She was expecting Julie to use him up and toss him aside at any point, and she hoped he wouldn’t be too traumatized from it. He’d only ever mentioned dating a couple of other girls once or twice since she had known him. He was shy.

“How much does he know about her?” Willow asked with a grimace. 

‘I couldn’t go that far.’ Andromeda let out a huge sigh. ‘It just didn’t seem fair. She should be the one to tell him that kind of thing.’ Willow finished the last part of her process and showed Drama the end result. ‘Fucking awesome,’ Drama signed with a smile. ‘You should write a book and make a fortune.’

“Oh,” Willow grinned, “but then everybody would be after me for a sequel.” She signed it as she said it, spelling the last word SQL.

Drama lowered her eyebrows and frowned at her. ‘That was your worst joke ever. You should go back to being funny about kale.’ But she had to hold back a bit of a laugh at how funny Willow thought she was. Her face got serious after a second. ‘Have you seen this?’ She reached over to pull something up on Willow’s computer. She had a series of communications from Ophelia to the Board of Directors for Vector copied off into a different file folder. She waited for Willow to search through them for a moment.

“How did you get this?”

‘Stole it.’ She blinked at the redhead.

“Duh, I got that part. I asked how.”

Oh. She blushed a little. ‘She has a secondary email account. I tagged it. It blind copies me on everything she sends out. No incoming, but all outgoing.’

Willow sat back in her chair and gave the girl a bigger smile. “That’s some sneaky shit. I like it.” She glanced back at the communications. “And I can see why you’re worried about this.” She sighed and crossed her arms. “Murdock is… I don’t honestly know what she’s up to, but I have a bad feeling about it.”

‘Me, too. She has information here that she didn’t get from anyone in tech ops.’

“So she’s working with someone on the outside.” Willow shared a look with Drama. They had both been worried about this all along, and now they were looking at evidence of it. Ophelia Murdock had sent questions about payments out of Vector and into the hands of the two most recent crime rings that their own group had busted. They were paying the very criminals they were chasing. It made no sense. “We need to find out who else is involved. We need more information.”

Drama took a deep breath. ‘I have some connections.’

“From where?” Willow gave her a puzzled look.

Drama looked around. She seemed very nervous all of a sudden. ‘From before Vector.’

Willow knew that Andromeda’s past wasn’t exactly clean, but she’d stayed out of things out of respect for her as their friendship grew. She didn’t have enough specifics to know what Drama’s connections might be. It was likely that they involved some dangerous people. “Is that safe? For you?” She watched her look away and not answer. “Maybe we can find another way.”

‘No, it’s fine,’ she shook her off. ‘I can get what we need.’

“I don’t like risks.” Willow glared at her. “This has to stay quiet if we don’t want her to find out, and it’s obviously best to stay out of her line of fire.”

Drama stood up, towering over her friend. She looked down at her with a very firm gaze. ‘I’ll get what we need. Just don’t ask any questions once we have it.’ She turned around to walk away, but she stopped and looked back for a moment. ‘Can you bust into Social Security for Julie? I think that’s the only part we have left.’

“Easy peasy,” Willow nodded. Once Drama had walked back into her office, she pulled out her phone and sent Tara a text message, letting her know she would be home soon.

Her brain wouldn’t let things go on her drive back home. She cut the engine as she sat in the minor traffic backup behind the raised bridge deck. She watched a pair of oversized boats move through the canal slowly on their way to the locks. Everything had moved at such a fast pace since she had picked up working for Murdock, and she hadn’t had enough time to wrap her mind around what was happening. She needed time to think. 

It felt like she was the one being left behind while everyone around her moved on. She tried to clear her head as the bridge deck lowered. The light turned green and she drove north, looking at the lights of Ballard all around. She needed to see what was in Drama’s past, to know if it was truly safe for her to open up her old connections, but doing that felt like a complete betrayal of everything. She had only known the girl for a few weeks, but a good friendship was developing between them, and Drama was so important to Faith that Willow couldn’t betray that friendship either. She felt torn. 

She parked on the quiet street in front of Tara’s house. It was more theirs now than just hers, and that had been enough of an adjustment. She walked through the gate at the front, past the spaces in the yard she had been clearing for some raised vegetable beds, up the steps, and through the door into warmth and raucous laughter. 

“She absolutely laid him to waste!” Drew said with a hearty laugh. “Nobody gives Tara less than an A on any paper she writes and lives to tell about it.”

Willow took in the smiles on their faces, the glasses of wine around the cozy living room. Tara got up to welcome her home with a kiss. “You stayed late again,” she said with a mock frown. “Drew and Tyler brought dinner if you’re hungry. We finished a while ago.”

Tyler got up and started for the kitchen. “I’ll warm some up for you.”

Willow followed him. “Thanks.” They both glanced back toward the living room where Tara and Drew were laughing loudly again. “They’ll go on like that for hours if we let them.”

“Drew said they’ve been friends for a long time.”

“May as well be siblings at this point.” Willow rolled her eyes. “But they’re sorta perfect for each other.” She watched him move around in the kitchen, looking carefully for all the things he needed. She pointed at the cabinet on his far right. “That one has the plates.”

“Right.” He still looked a little lost. 

“I can handle this part.” Willow gently nudged him aside. She pulled out a plate, set it on the counter, and started dishing up some food for herself. “Tara said something about you having an interest in viticulture?”

Tyler gave her a big smile. “I just finished up my master’s at WSU. My uncle owns a winery just outside of Chelan. Going into the family business, you know.”

“That is so cool.” Her smile was genuine. She watched him pour her a glass of wine. He handed it over, and she gave it an appraising look. “Is this one of your own?”

“May as well be,” he shrugged. “I’ve worked out there very summer from when I was little. I probably picked the grapes that went into that cask.” They sat down at the table once Willow’s plate was warm. She was happy to eat in the kitchen without all the distraction of Drew and Tara’s stories. It had been a long day. “I’m new around here,” he said apologetically. “But you seem a little… tired maybe?”

Willow took a sip of wine. It was dark and jammy and slightly spicy. It helped her shoulders relax. “New job. Kind of intense. I’m still figuring some things out.” She took a bite of the Thai food she knew Drew had picked out. It was all of Tara’s favorites, and the thought of how well he knew her made Willow’s brain get caught up in her mental debate about Drama again. “Have you ever…” She thought for a moment, glancing at him. Tyler was very quiet compared to Drew. He was polite and kind, and Willow felt certain that he would be around for a long time. “Have you ever needed to do something, but you knew it could risk a friendship if you did it?”

“Well that sounds pretty juicy.” He picked up his own wineglass and drank. He adjusted his glasses. “Friendships are important, but if the thing you need to do is important enough, hopefully your friend knows how much you care about them.”

“I think she’s taking risks,” Willow talked into her own wineglass. 

Tyler narrowed his eyes at her. “Work risks? Or life risks?”

She sighed. “In this case they’re the same thing.” She watched him think about her words. “There’s just a lot I don’t know.” She dropped her head into her hands.

“Is it possible this friend of yours is just trying to protect you?”

Willow glanced up at him. He was impossible not to like. He was smart, he had a great sense of humor, and she knew Drew was absolutely crazy about him. She had to add intuitive to the list now. “I suppose that’s a possibility.”

____________________

Drama looked at the instructions in her hands and back at the pile of hardware on the floor. She swore in her head, wishing it could be out loud. She signed to Faith to get her the flathead screwdriver. Faith furrowed her eyebrows in concentration. She looked on the counter behind her, picked one up, and asked in very clear sign language, ‘You want this?’

Drama beamed at her. ‘I want you,’ she signed with an eyebrow wiggle.

“Hey,” Faith said, “I must be getting good.” She handed Drama the screwdriver and looked at the mess on the floor. “How is this supposed to be a crib?”

Drama threw the instructions on the carpet and raised her hands in fury. There was a knock at the door, so she took the excuse to get up and take a change of pace. Scotty was standing outside the door looking nervous as hell. Drama wanted to laugh at him. This was their third date in two weeks, and he still looked like he could puke. He was holding a bundle of dark blue irises. She invited him in and closed the door behind him. Moose trotted over to sniff Scott. “Hi, oh,” he said, pushing the nose out of his way. “Is she ready?”

“I think she’s just doing her Kegels,” Faith said with a straight face. “Never too late to keep things tight, am I right?” She punched his shoulder playfully, enjoying how pale his face was turning. 

“Hi, Scotty,” Julie called from the bedroom doorway. She skipped over and picked up her coat from the hook by the door. Scotty escaped Faith’s leering eyes and opened the door for Julie, handing her the flowers. “Would you look at that,” she glared at her sister and Faith. “Romantic, thoughtful, chivalrous.” She took his hand. 

‘Right,’ Drama signed from the spot on the floor she was resuming. ‘You two have a ball while we assemble this piece of shit.’

“What did she say?” Scotty asked as they walked out.

“She’s jealous of me having someone take me out all the time,” Julie said with certainty. 

Faith closed the door behind them and leaned against it. “Can I lock the door yet?” Drama glared at her, but the corner of her mouth twisted into a smile. “You could put the tools down and screw something else tonight.” Faith sat down on the floor next to her.

Drama squared her shoulders, facing Faith so that she could see her sign clearly. ‘We have one week before the baby is due.’

Faith followed her hands and tried her best. “You need ten minutes to get undressed? Well that’s silly, it’s never taken you that long before.”

Drama laughed and sat forward, leaning into Faith hard with a kiss that lasted long enough that Faith had started pulling them back on the carpet. Drama stopped her and shook her head, no. She picked up the screwdriver and twirled it in her hand. 

“So…” Faith pouted, “you don’t want to relive all our old moments in this apartment?”

Drama signed to her again. ‘Build, then party.’ 

Scotty glanced at the beautiful girl in the front seat of his car again. He still couldn’t believe she was there, that she kept saying yes to dates with him. His hands felt sweaty on the steering wheel. 

“Where are we going?” she asked him with a sweet smile. It made his head spin.

“I, uh…” He tried to focus on the road. “I got us tickets to the symphony.” He looked sideways to see her reaction. He was worried she would think it was stupid or geeky or something. 

But Julie gave him an enormous smile. “Seriously? I’ve never done anything like that.” She watched the city lights pass over them as he drove the car into town, down Second Avenue. They had walked this way before, and he always complained about parking downtown. This time he signaled and got in line to park in the garage under the symphony hall. “I tried to tell Andy you’re romantic, but she just says you’re brainy.”

“She thinks I’m brainy?” he asked in shock.

Julie gave him a side-eye look that wasn’t too happy. “Are you into my sister or something?”

“What?” He straightened up and followed the directions of the parking attendant. He hated parking in garages. The ceilings always felt too low to drive under. “Drama’s just a friend. Coworker.” He had thought they were close to being friends, but dating Julie had made Drama give him that same look every time he was around now. It looked like she wanted to tear his arms off.

Julie grinned a little. “So you don’t think she’s hot?”

Scotty leaned over to see where the next parking spot was. “No way. Not at all.”

“Scott, she looks exactly like me.”

He pulled the car into the space and yanked on the parking brake. “No she doesn’t.” But inside he was having a full-blown panic attack. He knew that she did. They were the closest thing he had seen to identical twins since the eighth grade when he got beaten up by Tracey and Laurie, these two incredibly popular sisters in middle school who had it out for anybody wearing glasses or playing fantasy role playing games during lunch.

“I actually think being a bad liar is a good thing in a guy.” Julie opened her door. 

Before she was even standing up all the way, Scotty was there with a gentle hand under her arm. “I’m not trying to lie,” he gave her a guilty look. “I’ve known Drama a long time. You’re not like her at all.” He closed the door behind her.

Julie liked how he wanted to take care of her. It felt so refreshing. And he never wanted to upset her. He wasn’t like any of the other guys she had ever known back home. He might not be built like Jessie, but she didn’t care. He made up for it with everything else. “What do you think she’s like?”

Scotty watched her with a nervous eye. “Drama?” He gulped. They walked toward the elevator to head upstairs. “Uh, she’s cool.”

“You’ve known her a long time and all you think is that she’s cool?” She gave him a skeptical look.

He wasn’t sure what Julie was looking for, and he was afraid she might corner him again. “She’s really smart, and she knows cars and computers, and sometimes when she tells jokes they’re hilarious.” He gave her a shrug. “She hardly noticed me until you said yes to going on a date with me.”

Julie smiled at him. “You really pissed her off.” Scotty wanted to ask her about that, but she didn’t leave him any room. “Has she ever dated guys?”

“I don’t know.” He wasn’t sure why Julie wanted to talk about Drama so much, and it had him second guessing his idea to take her to the symphony. He was ready for questions about Debussy, not this. “I think she and Faith have been together for a while, they just… kept it quiet I guess.” He felt her tense up at the mention of Faith. They stepped out of the elevator and into the crowd of people waiting to pass into the main building past the folks who would check their tickets. Scotty took a deep breath. “Is it Faith you don’t like, or your sister being gay?” He hadn’t wanted to get involved in this issue, but he knew it upset her. He just couldn’t understand why.

“She’s just…” Julie ended up shutting her mouth, knowing the words she was thinking about using wouldn’t sound right. She didn’t want to come across like she had a week earlier, angry, intolerant, hateful. 

“Before Faith started working with us, Drama didn’t come out for coffee. She didn’t do any of the fun group nights Pan and Petra put together.” His hand was still there, still holding onto hers. “And if she did, she wouldn’t talk to anybody but Pan.” Julie gave him a funny look. “You know what I mean. But as soon as Faith was around all the time, Drama was there, too.” He held out their tickets to be scanned. Julie walked with him through the oversized glass doors into the huge room on the other side. “And if it wasn’t for them, I wouldn’t have gotten to meet you.” 

He smiled at her as they walked up the stairs and through the next set of doors. They stopped again for another person to check their tickets and direct them to their seats. They walked down the center aisle toward the middle of the hall, and Scotty helped Julie into her seat. She looked up and all around. It was so beautiful she didn’t know what to focus on. She’d never seen anything so polished, so perfectly lit. It made her nervous to think that Scotty had brought her to hear music she’d also probably never heard before. She hoped she wouldn’t be too obvious if it was boring. 

“Is this a normal date thing to do?” she asked carefully.

Scotty looked up from the little guidebook they had handed him on the way in. “I’ve never taken anyone to the symphony before. I used to play in the one we had in high school. Nothing like this though.”

She hadn’t expected that. “You play music?”

He looked nervous again. He always looked nervous, and Julie was beginning to think he might never learn to relax around her. “I do. I mean I did.” He cleared his throat. “Cello. I still have it, I just haven’t gotten it out in years. Do you think I’m a complete nerd? Is this too geeky?”

“No,” she reassured him. “Not even close.”

“I keep expecting you to laugh at me for being… what I am.” He was blushing.

“Well,” she raised her eyebrows, “I keep expecting you to figure out that I’ve never been anywhere or done anything. You might think you’re a nerd, but I think I’m boring.” She watched him smile a little. “And for the record, you are nerdy, and I like that about you.”

Scotty tried to keep his heart from beating too loudly. It was making it hard to hear anything else. Julie had said yes to him so many times, and he was afraid his luck could run out at any second if he didn’t do everything right. So far he had taken her out for a nice steak dinner, which she loved, and a night of short films at a local film festival. She had told him that her favorite part of that night had been when he bought her a third cheeseburger at Dick’s. He figured maybe that was the pregnancy talking, but he couldn’t be sure. He knew that she liked popcorn and hated any of the gummy types of candies, that scary movies made it hard for her to sleep if she watched them, and that she still slept with a light on somewhere nearby in the bedroom. Usually at some point in the evening together, she would open her purse, take out her hairbrush, and brush her incredibly long hair in front of him. She was terrified of tangles. He had giggled when she first said that, but it turned out she was dead serious. He thought it was a little odd and a lot beautiful. And when she brushed her hair, she smelled so good he wanted to sit next to her and just breathe forever. 

“Can I kiss you?” His eyes went wide as soon as he realized he had said it out loud.

Julie grinned at him. “Okay.”

Scotty sat there, staring at Julie, with his gaze flicking back and forth from her green eyes to her very soft-looking lips. 

“Maybe I should kiss you?”

“Sure,” he squeaked. Julie moved toward him so fast he forgot to breathe. Her lips touched his, and he was instantly lost in how magical she felt. He had kissed exactly two other girls in his entire life. They were nothing like this. Julie’s mouth fit perfectly with his, and she tasted sweet and delicate, exactly how he thought she looked. 

She stopped for a moment to smile at him. Her hand was on his chin, keeping him close. “You smell really good,” she said. It was a little surprising. 

“I do?”

She kissed him again. He felt her pulling him a little closer, and he reached out to steady himself, but his hand went straight to her belly. It was hard to avoid. “Oh, sorry,” he whispered. The lights were dimming and the musicians were warming up on the large stage in front of them. He tried to give Julie a little more space, but she wouldn’t let go. Her hand was on his, and she guided him back to holding her belly. She turned and looked at him, trying to give him a hint, and he finally realized he should wrap his other arm over her shoulder. And when he did, she leaned back into him, sighing happily.

They listened to the music and talked about silly things during the intermission, and Julie told him about all of the things she had never done but wanted to do. Scotty started a long list in his head of things he could arrange for dates if she kept saying yes. After their first kiss she hadn’t run away. That had to be a good sign. It also turned out that she liked classical music, even though she hadn’t heard much before that night. Scotty promised he would get symphony tickets again. Maybe they would even try the opera.

Julie liked listening to Scotty talk about his family. He had three older brothers, and they were all handsome and athletic and smart, and he always felt like a complete misfit. But his brothers were nice about it, and they were protective. He had finally confessed that he still lived at home with his parents, and Julie hadn’t dumped him on the spot. She felt guilty as it was that her big sister had given up her apartment so that Julie could have enough space for herself and the baby. She worried as they got closer to the baby arriving that Scott would think she was too much work and not enough fun, but she didn’t know how to talk to him about that yet. It was scary enough to face childbirth and having a tiny newborn on her own. And no matter how much Andy said she would be there, something inside of Julie still felt terribly alone.

Scotty drove her home and walked her up the stairs to the apartment door. Drama and Faith had left once the crib was assembled, so no one else was there. “Do you wanna come in?” Julie asked him.

Scotty felt like stuttering. “I should probably…” He looked away.

Julie moved a little closer. Their hands were still together. “My big sister isn’t here to rough you up.”

He smiled at her. “Did you have a nice time tonight?”

She nudged their faces together and kissed his lips. He smelled like lemongrass or something really soothing. It was hard to describe. She didn’t even mind that he wasn’t any taller than she was. “You’re so romantic.” She felt herself blush.

“And that’s why I’m saying goodnight.”

Julie stared at him. “You’re sure it’s not because I’m huge?”

“What? You’re not huge. You’re beautiful.” He looked at the belly between them. His hand moved to rest on it gently. “Why are you so worried about this?”

She tried to look away, but Scotty lifted her chin with his other hand so that he could see her face. “I know it’s not what you want,” she said.

“You haven’t asked me what I want.”

Julie looked into his very blue eyes. “Well now I’m afraid to.”

Scotty tried to stand a little taller. “I want you, and I want to be part of your life. This baby is going to be the most important thing soon, and… I’d like to share that with you.”

She blinked at him. “And you still won’t come inside?”

“Nope.” He saw her smiling. He leaned in and kissed her, and this time it was really all about him initiating it. He felt like he had finally gotten something right.


End file.
